Shades of Gray
by llnbooks
Summary: Sequel to Oxygen. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: _I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story._

Author's Note: _Belated hello, everyone. Wow, I never got that many feedbacks before. Thanks. I didn't intend to take so very long to finish the sequel to 'Oxygen', but, alas, I came down with bronchitis and complications shortly after completing that story and spent most of the winter trying to recover. For those of you who enjoyed the first story (and I appreciate and thank all of you) and have been waiting for the sequel, I apologize for leaving you hanging for so long---honestly, even _I _didn't know 'Oxygen' was going to be a cliffhanger. I made sure to motivate myself to finish by banning myself from watching the Fan. 4 movie and from reading the stack of comic book reprints I purchased until this story was completed. I sincerely hope you enjoy the sequel/conclusion. Get comfy, it's going to be another long one._

_Once again, my F4 knowledge is quite limited (only the movie, the cartoon series, and a couple of graphic novels) and I'm merging movie bits with comic book bits, so there is bound to be non-cannon stuff that must be forgiven if you are going to enjoy this story. For instance, I see no evidence of the Fan 4 having communicators, but this is the age of cell phones and GPS and I can't imagine the team not at least trying to have communicators. I also can't figure if Johnny could or could not wear one. Feel free to debate it amongst yourselves. That's why it's called 'fan fiction' and not 'fan gospel truth'. I plugged what plot holes I could, but I did eventually just have to stop worrying about it if I wanted to finish._

**Rating:** _I hate trying to figure out these ratings. I recommend it for readers 'teen' and older, definitely, as it contains violence, comic book action, and some bad language (I'll keep it to a minimum, but still it's in here). It also contains adult subject matter which some may (will) find controversial. Do _not_ read any political statements in this story because I'm not making any. I'm far too lazy for that. It's all for plot purposes and opinions expressed are strictly those of the characters. No sex (gen or slash) or anything like that. Original characters are not meant to be Mary Sues. _

**FANTASTIC FOUR:**

"Shades of Gray"

_by llnbooks (a.k.a. llnbooks)_

**1**

The upper floors of the Baxter Building were a burned ruin. The sprinkler system, installed as a precaution by the current residents, had quickly extinguished the flames, but the damaged sections were blackened and still smoldering, like an ugly scar torn through the rest of the towering structure. For the crowd gathered on the sidewalk below, the only thing more astonishing than the sight of damage to the home of the Fantastic Four was the knowledge that it had been inflicted by one of its superhero occupants.

Carson Pierce lived for days such as this one.

Spectators gasped and whispered among themselves and the cameraman grumbled at having to sit, practically having to lie on his back, to frame both the reporter and the smoke from the upper floor, but Pierce ignored them all. "For those of you who are just tuning in, this is Carson Pierce reporting for 'Channel Six On-The-Scene'. We're continuing our coverage of the bizarre series of events that began with yesterday's abduction and imprisonment of Johnny Storm—better known as the Fantastic Four's Human Torch---which was broadcast live to the world.

"We now know that former multi-millionaire Victor Von Doom was responsible for the kidnapping. The self-proclaimed 'Doctor Doom' lived up to his name yesterday when he imprisoned the Human Torch in what appeared to be some sort of titanium box and began draining the oxygen supply while the remaining members of the Fantastic Four attempted what turned out to be the impossible task of rescuing their comrade from Doom's prison. Only a last-minute concession of defeat by the team persuaded Doctor Doom to release his captive unharmed. It was a harrowing situation for them no doubt; indeed it was difficult for all of us to watch as the events played out. Quite a crowd gathered outside the Baxter Building during that ordeal, and you can see most of the people remain here even now in a show of support for the Fantastic Four. Unfortunately, the story didn't end with the Human Torch's rescue."

Pierce glanced sidelong at the monitor in the news van as the crew switched from live shot to recorded footage. "What you're seeing now is incredible footage captured by security cameras at a brokerage house across the street from the Baxter Building. This video shows what can only be the Human Torch attacking the building---his home and the home of the rest of the Fantastic Four---and his teammates just a few hours after gaining his freedom from Doctor Doom. You can see a huge explosion and a trail of fire leading away from the Baxter Building. Fortunately, the fire was confined to the upper floors, which sustained heavy damage."

Carson waited impatiently for the crew to switch back to the live shot. "No one was injured, but speculation has been running wild about the implications of this strange turn of events. The remaining members of the Fantastic Four have offered no public statements about the situation, where the Human Torch is now, why he attacked his teammates, whether the public is in any danger. The possibility of any one with the Human Torch's powers turning against the public is----"

"---A great big pile of garbage," Ben Grimm answered, searching for his television remote.

Susan Storm beat him to the punch. Carson Pierce's report ended with a bang—or, more precisely, a crash---when a blast of the Invisible Woman's psychic energy sent the television flying into the wall. It shattered into a heap of smoke, glass, and wire. The demolished box fit right in with the debris and wreckage of what had been Reed Richard's laboratory only a few hours earlier. Sue stared at the mess, regretting only that the reporter cashing in on her family's suffering wasn't as easy to silence.

"Everything that the Matchstick busted and _that_," Ben gestured to the smashed box, "had to keep working so we can hear 'em trashin' us." At least the reporters knew better than to come knocking on their door, but the press would still be camped on the Baxter Building's doorstep for the foreseeable future.

Sue was defensive: "It wasn't Johnny's fault. Victor did something to him with _that_…"

She stared with pure hatred at the box that had been Johnny's temporary prison cell less than twenty-four hours earlier. It now stood in the middle of Reed's laboratory, a grotesque reminder of her brother's ordeal.

"I know, Susie," Ben answered.

At Reed's insistence that he needed to study the device with his own equipment, Ben had moved the box by helicopter from Victor Von Doom's former office to the Baxter Building less than an hour ago. He wasn't anymore happy about it than Sue. The loathsome thing was pristine (except for the damage Ben and Sue had inflicted upon it while trying to free Johnny) amidst the charred walls, damaged equipment, and incinerated furnishings of their home and Reed's laboratory. If not for the heavy-duty fire suppression equipment, the entire Baxter Building might have burned during Johnny's attack. As it was, the only damage beyond the top floors that was their home was a Ben-sized hole in the five floors below theirs, marking the spot where the Human Torch had burned the floor right out from under the Thing's feet.

Ben was getting dizzy watching Sue nervously pace around the room, so he turned his attention to their leader. Reed Richards was in the process of checking the damaged laboratory equipment to see what was salvageable, painfully aware that if Sue hadn't managed to shield him before Johnny's attack and the subsequent explosions, Mr. Fantastic would be as char-broiled as his computers. In truth, he could have studied the box right where it was in Victor's office, but he doubted the ability of that building's security to keep the reporters and spectators out of the way. The Baxter Building afforded the only true privacy and security for his work and his family.

"So, ya got any theories on how Vic got the kid to go _Jerry Springer_ on us?" Ben asked as he picked up the television Sue had smashed and set what remained of it on a broken table. His words didn't penetrate Reed's undivided concentration on one computer screen. Ben cleared his massive throat to gain their leader's attention. "Am I interruptin' web surfing time?"

Reed waved them over. He pointed to the computer screen. "This is security footage from that dentist's office where Doom kidnapped Johnny." Interested now, Sue and Ben moved to stand behind him, watching the video display over his shoulder. The camera tracked a woman—forty-something, brunette, fair-skinned---as she walked into the office. She spoke to the dentist, displayed some sort of identification, and made urgent gestures that prompted the staff and patients to begin quickly filing out of the office. When they were gone, the brunette moved towards the small room where Johnny sat in the dentist's chair, removing her overcoat as she walked to reveal nurse's scrubs underneath.

"She comes in, clears out the office---now watch her left hand when she's standing by Johnny," Reed narrated the events. As they watched the video, the woman gave Johnny what appeared to be a normal Novocain injection. Johnny said something to her that had to be flirtatious, judging by the smile she returned. She then put her left hand on his shoulder.

Sue frowned. The placement of the mystery woman's hand was too perfect. Johnny always wore his uniform beneath his clothing, and the woman had touched his neck just millimeters above its collar. She obviously had known the uniform was there. Sue memorized the woman's face. She had played a part in what Victor had done to Johnny; Sue would find her.

Reed paused the playback and enhanced the image, centering on her left hand. "See there? Between her fingers? That's a needle."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Sheesh. I thought that stuff only happened in cheesy spy movies." He sobered as the remaining footage played out: Johnny lost consciousness just seconds after the woman gave him the second injection. Two men in Haz-Mat outfits (no doubt sporting fake credentials for the staff and patients outside the office) entered the room, put a third suit on Johnny, and carried him out the back door.

"According to the police report, the staff called 911 to report a gas leak. The receptionist assumed that Johnny was evacuated by the mystery woman," Reed said.

"That's how she knew what to give Johnny to knock him out---Victor's files from after the accident," Sue deduced. Their bodies didn't react to pharmaceuticals like a normal person's did. Injected medication, for example, was useless on Ben, as needles broke on his rock-like skin. Johnny's body tended to metabolize or burn off medications rapidly. Reed had done endless testing on each of them to study their unique reactions to various medications, knowing that the information was essential to surviving any illness or injury that befell one of them.

Reed and Sue had worried about the amount of data that Victor had managed to collect about their mutations during their stay at his medical facility. The Fantastic Four already had enemies and admirers---and suspicious observers who fell somewhere in between. Reed had been concerned about keeping their DNA samples, blood work, or other detailed information under close guard to prevent it from being stolen and used to harm his family. Knowing that their need for medical help was inevitable, Reed had negotiated to store such information on his own computers rather than at hospitals, insisting it was for the medical staff's safety as much as for the team's. Reed had examined Johnny's medical charts during his brief stay at the hospital, worried about the amount of time the younger man had been unconscious after his release from the box. All traces of the drug the woman had used on Johnny were gone by then.

"Do you know who she is?" Sue asked Reed.

"Yes, I do." Reed had found her name and picture on the Internet the previous night---just five minutes too late to figure out what Doom had done to Johnny and prevent him from attacking the rest of the team. _Just five minutes_… Reed called up her profile on his mostly-intact laptop, which had survived the assault on the lab because it had fallen behind a larger piece of machinery. "She calls herself Dr. Reinhardt on the tape, but her real name is Doctor Eleanora Sater, Ph.D. Born and raised in the Chendryn province of Latveria, educated at Stanford on a scholarship from Von Doom Industries. She's spent the last five years doing research privately funded by---"

"Victor," Sue finished.

"Specifically for one of Victor's front companies in Latveria---the only companies shielded from Selva-Uitti Corporation's hostile takeover of Von Doom Industries," Reed confirmed.

"Researching what? Manufacturing boxes with annoying lights?" Ben made a weak attempt at humor.

"Her research focused on the use of light patterns, subliminal messages, and post-hypnotic commands to alter behavior. Of course, her application for the research was intended to be on violent criminals, sexual predators, and anyone who could be rehabilitated by her methods until they no longer presented a threat to society. There were subliminal messages embedded in Victor's transmissions to Johnny over that earpiece."

Sue and Ben had both heard the recording of Victor's exchange with Johnny—sans the subliminal messages, which Reed had filtered out---which they hadn't been able to hear while trying to free the Human Torch from the box. The mention of the baiting words made Ben clench his fist and Sue's frown deepen to a full scowl.

Reed absently stared at the earphone that the hospital had removed from Johnny's ear, where someone (presumably Dr. Sater) had stitched it in place. It was sad to Reed. He couldn't ethically agree with her intentions, but Nora Sater had wanted to help rehabilitate people to live normal lives safely within society. He could at least respect her motives, but not her methods.

Ben, on the other hand, couldn't wait to meet this 'Dr. Sater' lady and show her why she shouldn't use the Fantastic Four as her lab rats. From the dark expression on Sue's face, Ben knew she was thinking the same thing. "Nice---Vic funds her research, she uses it for his dirty work. All that just to get the kid to kill us."

He heard a sharp intake of breath from Sue and regretted inadvertently reminding her of all the bad memories Doom had dredged up from the Storm siblings' past while Johnny was his prisoner: The death of their mother, their father's arrest, their having to fight to stay together when they were only teenagers, children themselves. Ben was grateful that Victor's part of the conversation had been over a closed circuit and not broadcast to the world with the video feed---not that it spared Johnny and Sue from having their private past dragged out for the public to see. The reporters had been gathering information on the team from the moment the team had unintentionally formed on the bridge six months ago. School, police, and Social Services files that were supposed to be sealed and confidential had been hacked and the press now was having a field day with the Storms' back-story. Ben suspected the media had even contacted N.A.S.A., and was glad to know they wouldn't find anyone from the disciplined top brass down to the janitors who was inclined to dish about Johnny's expulsion from the program.

"That could be good news." Reed was now thinking aloud. Sue and Ben stared at him with disbelief, and he hasted to add: "Johnny _didn't_ kill us. If that was Victor's intention, then it's possible Dr. Sater's…mind control program…" The words were distasteful to the scientist, but he could find no better way to phrase it. "…isn't perfect. If so, we still have a change to counter-program Johnny." _If we can get him back here._

His efforts at reassuring them only added to Sue's growing fear. "What do you mean 'a chance'?"

Reed desperately wanted to be able to give them more hope, to offer himself more hope, but he would not lie to them. "I don't know how many post-hypnotic commands Dr. Sater planted in Johnny's mind, so I don't know what to counter-program. Plus, the computer program she used to plant the subliminal commands essentially uses an original language that I assume only she can translate. Without understanding that language, if I try to duplicate it to de-program Johnny, I'll be speaking in gibberish. I could make Johnny worse instead of better." Reed had already picked at the computer language, but he could make no sense of the subliminal coding. It might as well have been an alien language.

"No offense, Reed, but what's worse than trying to kill his own family?" Ben asked.

Reed automatically listed the possibilities that he'd been pondering: "I could inadvertently command him to kill himself, to kill innocent bystanders, to supernova and destroy Earth's atmosphere…" Then there was the one possibility the scientist didn't dare consider, much less voice: What if Victor hadn't just 'hypnotized' Johnny? What if he'd completely and irretrievably erased Johnny's memory?

Ben waved a hand. "Okay, I get the idea."

Sue was ashen-faced, but, after absorbing what Reed had said, she resolved: "Then Dr. Sater is going to help us fix what she did."

"We can't exactly abduct the woman and force her to hand over the program…" Reed turned to Sue. Her eyes were worried but deadly serious. Her jaw was set firmly and her arms crossed in a gesture of determination. She was in 'Protective Big Sister' mode (Reed had seen it before), full force.

"Sure we can," she disagreed. "If she's in Victor's pocket, she's not going to do it voluntarily."

"What if she's not in his pocket? What if she's under his thumb? I don't believe this is a super villain we're dealing with, I think she's a scientist who's had her work perverted by a psychopath," Reed argued. He could have just as easily found himself and his research used by Victor if his work but for a twist of fate.

Sue had no sympathy for the woman. She had known what she was doing when she helped abduct Johnny. "If she's Johnny's only chance, I'm going to make sure she helps whether she wants to or not."

"Even it means kid--?"

"If that's what it takes, yes."

"I'm not prepared to resort to thei---"

"I'm not losing my brother, Reed!" Sue vowed, fear and worry making her tone harsher than she'd intended.

Ben jumped in before the two of them said something they'd regret. Bickering with each other wasn't going to resolve anything. "Hey, we're wastin' time yammerin'. Matchstick needs us. If we can find this Sater lady, we'll probably find Johnny. She's gotta be helping Victor keep control of him, right? So, I say we start by searching that whatsit province in Latveria and get the kid back before Doom uses him to attack us again. After that, you two can debate ethics all ya want."

Reed wished it were that simple. He was just as worried about Johnny as Ben and Sue were, and he shared their instinct, desperation, to act _now_, but—painful as it was to admit—Reed also knew that blundering in without planning would make a bad situation worse. He'd been mulling their situation and possible courses of action since the moment Johnny unleashed that firestorm on their home. Reed had already made a horrible mistake letting Victor trick him and get Johnny in the first place. So when Ben headed towards the door, Reed rose from his chair and intercepted the Thing. "We're not ready."

"Come again?"

Reed resumed listing his apprehensions. "I already have satellites trying to track his heat signature, but so far I'm not finding anything. Victor's obviously gone to some trouble to hide him, so he's going to go to more trouble to keep us from finding him. And we can't treat this like we're rescuing a hostage. We know what Victor's done, but I'm guessing Johnny doesn't. Johnny's not a teenager who sneaked out after curfew or jumped off a yacht in Boston Harbor anymore, Ben, he's a human fireball---a human fireball who probably, at minimum, has a post-hypnotic command telling him to kill all of us on sight and then go on with is day like nothing happened. And who knows what else Victor and Dr. Sater planted in his mind? I'm sure 'resist capture' is in there, too. We need to plan how we're going to find him, how we're going to get him out of Latveria if that's where he is, and most importantly how we're going to keep Johnny here when we bring him home if he doesn't want to stay. If we aren't careful, we'll hurt him or he'll hurt us. Or worse."

Reed was right, but that didn't mean Ben had to be happy about it. Grudgingly, he nodded his massive head in agreement. _One down. Now to convince the tougher of the two…_

"Victor already gave us a way to keep him here." The quiet observation came from Sue before Reed could say a word to her. He and Ben found her staring pointedly, in revulsion and dismay, at the titanium box. The notion of putting her brother back in that cage, even if it was for his own good, made Sue sick down to the pit of her soul, but there could be no other option. They already knew it would hold Johnny, and it would be a simple matter to fix the equipment Ben had smashed or Reed had disassembled and run an oxygen line into the container. If she started working right now, she could have the container ready by the time Reed tracked down Johnny's location. She channeled her fear into determination now that she had a course of action and began inspecting the damage to the box.

The same horror she felt was mirrored on Reed and Ben's faces, but they rapidly came to the same conclusion. Even as Sue set to work, Reed's mind was already building on her insight. The box could fit in an office and be lifted by a helicopter; it just might be small enough to get to Latveria if they had an--- "Ben, how soon can you have the Warbird ready to fly?" Reed asked.

'Warbird' was the nickname for one of two planes that the team was collaborating to build. Reed had built a hangar at the roof of the building. Ben knew where Reed was heading with this train of thought. Ben grinned just a bit, feeling better now that they had the beginnings of a rescue plan. "Sure, but Matchstick's gonna get his shorts in a bunch when he finds out we messed with the plane without him."

_That was putting it mildly_, Reed winced. "Just don't mess with his motorcycles."

Ben grunted, "I didn't fall of the turnip truck yesterday, ya know." The bikes were Johnny's pet projects, only he had dubbed them 'hoverbikes', confident in his ability to modify them to fly. Reed still called them 'motorcycles' because the machines were in no danger of flying in the near future. Ben didn't know why Johnny was so attached to flashy vehicles, but he suspected the hangar had survived almost untouched by the fires was because Doom and Dr. Sater couldn't invent enough 'post-hypnotic commands' to make Johnny trash his prized machines.

Reed nodded at the feeble joke, more focused on the problem---the major puzzle---of interpreting Sater's computer program. Ben could read his old friend's thoughts just by looking at him. "It ain't your fault, you know, Reed."

The scientist played dumb. "What?"

"You're beating yourself up 'cause Victor got to the kid. Ya ain't psychic. We were all standing right there watching and we didn't know what Victor was doing with that contraption either," he reminded Reed. Ben understood the burdens that came with responsibility for a team. He'd been a commanding officer, hell he'd even been Johnny's C.O. for a brief time at N.A.S.A.

Doom's obnoxious words came back, unbidden.

_"Grimm had a say in the decision to throw you out of N.A.S.A."_

_"Why did you hang on to your loyalty to him after all that?"_

_"Trust is a privilege. When it's betrayed, it's revoked."_

_"Are you that desperate for a father figure?_" 

Ben imagined his own large fist squeezing Doom's metallic neck to silence the stinging words.

Reed wasn't ex-military and he wasn't in command of soldiers. It had always been in Reed's mind, since the first day they put on their blue uniforms and took on Doctor Doom, that something like this could, and inevitably would, happen. When he'd stepped forward and accepted the responsibility of leading this team…his family…he'd also sworn to himself to try to keep them safe.

Ben was trying to make him feel better, but he didn't quite understand. Reed _had_ seen it---he'd suspected, no he'd _known_, that Victor was up to something more than trying to humble the team in front of a live audience. He'd known just hearing Johnny's side of their conversation that Doom was speaking of subjects he had no reason to bring up: Concession, loyalty, mentors, and 'emotional impurities'. Victor had spoken about N.A.S.A., about Johnny's father, even about Reed's relationship with Sue. Reed had known there was no reason for those lights to be blinking in that pattern. But, he'd been so preoccupied with getting Johnny out of that cage before his oxygen ran out that Reed had put answering the question of 'why' on the backburner until it was too late. Even worse, Reed had been the one to order Johnny not to remove the earpiece that was feeding Sater's hypnotic suggestion into the younger man's mind. Victor had gambled, correctly, that Reed would try to trace his broadcast, and he'd used Reed's zeal to capture Doom to ensure that Johnny heard every last subliminal command.

"I knew something wasn't right, Ben. I still know it. Victor didn't pick Johnny because he wanted to play mentor. No, there's something he specifically needs to do with Johnny's powers. We have to get Johnny back and counter that program Sater created before Victor does it---" Reed stared at the gibberish language on the screen and slammed his fast against the battered computer. "---and I don't have a clue how to do it."

Ben grinned at him. "You'll figure it out. I ain't seen a puzzle ya couldn't figure out yet." There was not a whit of doubt in the Thing's tone.

_Trust you, Reed, _Johnny had said before Victor's programming took over. Swearing that trust would not be misplaced, the scientist turned his concentration to the puzzle Dr. Sater had laid at his feet.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story. Also, if you came straight here and skipped chapter one because it was previously posted as the 'prologue', you may want to go back and re-read chapter one. There have probably been a few minor alterations (nothing too noticeable)._

**2**

_Five Days Later…_

Latveria was two very different countries within one border.

The face it showed to the world was the portrait of a Third World country bringing itself into the twenty-first century in baby steps. A country once at the mercy of warring factions of drug dealers, black marketers, and would-be dictators with their followers, had brought together and elected government and military that had spent fifteen years slowly ferreting out those who terrorized the citizens with their violent ways. Coastal cities had constructed an impressive network of ports that opened Latveria to trade with larger, richer nations around the world. A few cities in the more scenic provinces had even established themselves as premiere vacation destinations for wealthy tourists. The problems of hunger, of vile living conditions due to lack of running water and electricity, were all but a memory in these larger cities thanks to these thriving industries. This was the Latveria seen in news reports and boasted about by its government and Ambassadors. For two-thirds of the population, it was the 'real' Latveria.

Life was very different in the 'other' Latveria.

Rafi had never seen a ship. He'd seen boats, yes, the small hand-built crafts that people from his village used on the lake when they fished during the spring and summer, but not the large vessels that filled the coastal ports. For that matter, he had never seen the coast, the ocean, and could never have dreamed of the sort of vast cities, with skyscrapers and the luxuries of running water and electricity, that had grown in those lands.

His life, deep in the mountainous regions of the province of Chendryn, was as his ancestors' had lived: Up before the dawn to draw water from the wells and care for the livestock so vital to the survival of the farming community. When it was winter, like it was now, the wells sometimes froze and water had to be retrieved by drilling holes in the frozen lake instead. Breakfast consisted of just enough food to sustain his family.

Summer days were spent in the fields, enjoying the warmth of the sun, the melody of the wind whistling through the trees, the sounds of the river rushing down to the lake, children laughing at play or chattering as they helped adults with the chores, and the sounds of the various animals and livestock of the land. He would head home at sunset to his family for another meal of 'just enough' to live on, prayer, and then music on the harmonica his father had somehow procured long ago and passed down to Rafi.

When the crops were harvested and food stored for the harsh winters, when the pigs had been slaughtered and the meat dried for freezing in the frigid winter air, most of his cold winter days would be happily spent indoors in the warmth of home and family. Survival was lean at times, but survive they did. Survive most of the families of the village did.

There was nothing lacking or wanting in Rafi's mind.

No, there was nothing the unheard of metropolises could offer that Rafi needed or wanted…save one thing: Mornings when Rafi didn't awaken to the screams of his friends, the roar of jeep engines, and the crack of gunfire. Mornings, such as this one, where these terrible sounds reached him in the forest, where he was cutting wood (the sky was showing signs of a blizzard coming in). Rafi glanced back towards the village, nestled among towering trees, to see wisps of smoke---too much to be the usual cooking fires. The noises of gunfire, engines, and cries of the people echoed off the surroundings hills. He knew who had come.

_General Kubeka's guerrillas. Kubeka's jackals. Dogs. Murderers._

Rafi's wife and children were there, in the crosshairs of those hated guns, and so---cutting scythe still clutched in his hand---he ran towards the sounds of carnage with no fear for himself. He saw no traces of his own family, but his elderly neighbor, Gustaev, and his two grandchildren, had been netted by the imposing figures in the brown paramilitary fatigues. Automatic weapons were aimed at the heads of the eight-year-old boy and the five-year-old girl. Fighting for their own survival, feeling and hiding, no one among the villagers could lift a finger in defense of the youths.

Only Rafi, thus far, had escaped the soldiers' attention by hiding behind trees and woodpiles. Advanced in years and infirmed by joint pain, Gustaev had little chance of securing his grandchildren's release except by appealing to the non-existent mercy of their captors. "We've done nothing to you," Gustaev pleaded.

As Rafi crept towards the group, he recognized one of the men who tormented the old villager as Captain Mufale, the swine who now occupied the void created by the sudden, mysterious death of General Kubeka. Kubeka's death had earned no grief from any man, woman, or child in the province. For three decades, the man had been part of a group of drug dealers, thieves, corrupt soldiers who served no government, and corrupt officials of the former dictatorship that had controlled Latveria. This alliance had terrorized and murdered the citizens across the country during their violent domination of Latveria.

The merciless Kubeka eventually became the quarry of Latveria's new government, and he and his followers were driven into hiding in the mountain provinces like Chendryn, where they had subsisted by theft and intimidation among the farming villages until Kubeka's death. Since their leaders death, the villages were constantly besieged by the assaults of Mufale and his men. Not even the deepening snow kept them away as they searched for one thing…

"We want to one who killed General Kubeka!" Mufale warned Gustaev. The captain raised his fist and, in response, his soldiers pressed the muzzles of their rifles to the children's temples. "Your village will be rewarded with the my protection if you hand over the murderer."

Gustaev's desperation—and indecision—was in his eyes. Rafi saw it and his heart went out to the man. The old man would yield, Rafi knew. He would yield the information and then watch as his grandchildren were slaughtered anyway. Then he would grieve only for the length of the seconds that elapsed before Mufale's men turned their weapons against him. Every villager in the province knew the name of the man Mufale sought. It was a testament to how much the general had been despised that so many people suffered to keep that secret. Plus, there were undeniable rewards for their help in keeping this man's whereabouts a secret…

Rafi intervened, knowing he was doing little more than buying a minute more of life for Gustaev and his family. Rafi wondered fleetingly if his own family had escaped these vultures and chose to believe that they had only to bring peace to his heart in his own last moments of life. Raising the useless ax, Rafi stepped into the open and shouted to Mufale: "You and Kubeka are the murderers! We do not require your protection!"

The captain was amused. "I can see that---clearly we're no match for a man so well armed. You must be the protector of these people. Shepard of the flock, yes? Tell me, can you protect this child---" He put a dirty, callused hand on the granddaughter's shoulder. The girl bit her lip, defiant, not making so much as a whimper. "---from a bullet with that little farm tool, Shepard?"

Rafi would not back down. "If I were you, sir, I would leave here and be very glad you did not find what you were looking for," he suggested.

As if the angels were backing Rafi's warning, Captain Mufale's fortune changed quite literally in a flash. Rafi heard a whistling noise and felt heat like the sun as a flash of light streaked past his face…a flash of fire. The ball of fire came from above, shot down over Rafi's shoulder and exploded precisely at Mufale's feet, setting the man's pant legs, just above where the snow came up to his ankles, on fire while neatly leaving the little girl unharmed. Mufale's shrieks now pierced the morning air, above the din of the chaos around him, as he frantically batted at the flames. His men forgot their captives for an instant, transfixed and perplexed by the turn of events, until an even stranger sight drew the eyes of one of the soldiers.

What the man saw was impossible: It was a streak of fire like a meteor. It flew across the sky, skirting over the treetops, over the fields of decimated crops, startling the already agitated livestock and melting the snow as it sailed on course directly for the screeching Mufale and his guerrillas. The fireball, as it flew closer, became noticeably human-shaped.

From the corner of his eye, Rafi also caught of glimpse of the trail of fire in the sky. He smiled as, one-by-one, the guerrillas saw what was coming and the color drained from the faces of the pig assailants. Rafi knew who had arrived. "As I said, our village does not require your protection---only your departure."

The attackers turned their weapons away from the children, who dashed to the safety of their grandfather's arms, and aimed the guns shakily at the on-coming human fireball. In their disbelief, surprise, and fright, the guerrillas never got off a shot. Mufale, who was rolling in the snow to extinguish his burning pant legs, had not taken notice of the new danger. It was the noise, like the roar of a raging forest fire, which alerted the captain. He finally looked up in time to see two flesh-and-blood arms reach out of the flames and pick him up by his collar. As his man shrank away in terror, Mufale was hoisted into the air by the human-shaped flame and pitched into a large bank of fresh snow.

The fireball circled around and returned to Mufale. It landed not far from the soldier and the flames abruptly flickered out, leaving only the very human man that wielded the fire.

Life among Mufale's army had been considerably less sheltered and rustic that the lives of the villagers they bedeviled. They had television and radio programs beamed in via satellite to the mansions that served as their lairs and hideaways. They even had Internet. Luxuries like these—new to even Latveria's richest cities and undreamed of in places like this mountain village---were the perks of loyalty to Mufale and Kubeka before him. So, the guerrillas had seen news footage of an American "superhero" (as the Westerners phrased it) who could turn his body into fire and even fly. But, not once in their wildest imaginings had any of these men expected to meet one of the American "Fantastic Four".

The man's blue uniform was different. There was a 'V' insignia where a '4' should have been, but Mufale still knew him: Johnny Storm, the 'Human Torch'.

The American grinned at the cowering captain. "You should be glad this isn't a movie, pal. If it was, the would have been a giant pile of manure instead of snow."

While his men stood, dumbfounded, Mufale drew a pistol holstered on his belt and hurriedly squeezed off a shot. Instantly, the Torch's body turned back to flames through which the bullet passed harmlessly.

Johnny shook his head, "Some people have no gratitude." With one hand, he pitched a fireball at the thug and, predictably, Mufale made a spectacle of himself in his haste to be free of the snow and flee from this unanticipated threat. The captain ran deeper into the forest. It would have been pitifully easy for Johnny to catch the guy, and easier still to make a barbeque out of him, except that wasn't Johnny's style, but he let the creep run. The joker wasn't going to get far anyway.

Gunfire cracked and more bullets passed through Johnny's flames. He turned toward the source of the shots and found the other guerrillas, the ones who had threatened the kids, advancing on him. Johnny's arrival had turned the tide of the battle: Villagers, who already knew about the presence of the Human Torch in their province and that he was no danger to them, used the diversion Johnny had created to pick up farm implements, sticks, and rocks to counterattack the soldiers. The two who were pointing guns at Johnny were the only ones left, and the way their hands were shaking, they'd be lucky not to shoot themselves in their own feet much less hit Johnny.

"You guys are killing me, I feel like I'm in an '_A-Team'_ rerun. At least _try_ to make this interesting," Johnny asked.

They responded by squeezing off shots that, as predicted, came nowhere near hitting the Human Torch. He shook his head, "Guess I'll have to make my own fun, then." Johnny formed a perfect sphere of fire with one hand. "You guys do much bowling out here? No? It's not usually my game, but let me show you how to pick up a seven-ten split…"

With perfect form, Johnny pitched the ball of fire at the two advancing soldiers. They tripped over themselves and each other in their haste to dodge the flame, toppling like pins. In the process, they both landed on their backsides in the mud Johnny had made when his flames melted the snow. The Human Torch focused a wave of heat on that mud, rapid-drying it until the earth hardened around the two guerrillas and trapped them with only their heads, hands, and lower legs exposed. The angry Gustaev grandchildren repaid their tormentors by pitching pig slop at the trapped duo.

Captain Mufale headed deeper into the forest, unashamedly leaving his men to face the American fireball on their own. Men were replaceable---after all, this province alone was full of men desperate for the sort of luxuries and better lives that Mufale could provide. After he replenished his forces, he would find the one who had killed General Kubeka, for that crime could not go unanswered.

Mufale had heard rumors of a faceless man with a body of indestructible metal. The rumors were that this inhuman monstrosity had torn a hole right in the center of Kubeka's chest and settled into one of the many mansions that the general had called home. The captain had given no credit to the ramblings and ghost stories of superstitious, easily cowed peasants…not until this moment. Other villages searched by the guerrillas had yielded warnings that Kubeka's mysterious killer was not the protector of this province and its population. Duval had paid no heed to those admonitions either…until this moment. His conversion from 'skeptic' to 'believer' came only when, in his flight from the Human Torch, he encountered this living, breathing 'protector'.

The figure was every bit as blood chilling as the stories of the villagers had described him. Simply being in the presence of the man made of living metal caused every hair on Mufale's body to stand on end…owing to fear and to the electricity that crackled in the air. The electricity emanated from the man's metal fingers, which stretched from beneath the sleeves of the black coat that covered most of his metal body. The only thing human about him was the shape of his body and the two keenly intelligent eyes that stared at Mufale from beneath a metal Latverian-style mask. The gaze of those eyes was cold as the steel that had replaced the man's skin. The protector called himself 'Doom' or 'Doctor Doom' according to the villagers' stories. Mufale took one glance and knew the moniker befit the man.

A soft voice hissed from behind the mask: "Looking for me, Mufale? I've been looking for you---and General Kubeka and your friends---for three decades."

"_If I were you, sir, I would leave here and be very glad you did not find what you were looking for_," the villager had said. Mufale knew that he had found the one responsible for Kubeka's death. The villager was right: Mufale was very sorry to have finally succeeded in his quest for the killer.

Doom stepped closer, electricity snapping in bolts from his hands. "Of course, you wouldn't remember me. I was only a boy when you and Kubeka murdered my father," he purred, "and you can see, I've gone through some changes since that day."

Mufale raised his pistol, already knowing the guns would be as ineffective against Doom as they had been against the boy made of fire. "Tell me the name of the politician who protected you and your happy little crew, and you might survive the day," Doom offered.

Out of any other options, Mufale again tried to flee.

"Giving up so easily?" Doom's footsteps followed the guerrilla. "At least have the backbone to go down fighting like Kubeka did."

Mufale could not outrun the man. The captain decided he had no other recourse, and without thinking, he raised his weapon again and his finger squeezed its trigger. The bullet pinged off Doom's torso, harmless as a gnat. Amusement danced in the metal man's eyes. "That's the spirit! Now, it's my turn." A tremendous bolt of energy ripped from Doom's left hand, sailed past Mufale, and splintered the large trunk of a towering tree.

Johnny Storm arrived on the scene just in time to witness the heavy tree falling onto the fleeing Mufale, squashing him like an insect under a boot. Johnny flinched at the gruesome sight, but didn't feel the pity he somehow thought he should, not after seeing what this jerk had done to the Latverians.

"_You want to know why I saved a bad man like that robber?"_

"_No—I know. That oath and stuff."_

"'_And stuff'. Meaning you don't agree?"_

"_No, sir."_

Johnny couldn't see his employer's face, but he could tell that Victor Von Doom was gloating underneath his mask. Shaking his head, he hiked up the dirt path to join Doom, commenting, "Job pay: Excellent. Job Location: Bitchin', no question. Employer…" He gestured to the unfortunate fellow that the employer in question had just pancaked beneath a tree. "…eww, has issues. Overall job satisfaction: Four out of five stars. You don't get the fifth star until you find me more interesting bad guys to trash, boss, 'cause those goombahs---" The image of the guerillas getting their butts kicked by the Gustaev children sprang into Johnny's mind. "---give me a break. You didn't ask me to come to Latveria just to play campus cop to the local schoolyard bullies, did you?"

Von Doom regarded the man's remains with contempt. This man served Kubeka when the general had ordered the death of Victor's father. He felt no pity or remorse. Doom reveled in avenging his family on another of the renegades.

Doom eventually turned away from what was left of his victim to acknowledge his new 'employee'. "You were holding back again, Johnny. You could have taken out Mufale with that fireball and instead you gave him a hotfoot. I've told you, don't ever spare the life of anyone who has the power to destroy you. Destroy them first."

It sounded familiar, though Johnny couldn't immediately recall the occasion when Doom had given him that advice. He rubbed his eyes. _The boss was in a lecturing mood again. Doom sure did enjoy the sound of his own ranting sometimes._ "These guys are hired goons. After seeing them in action, I'm surprised they can dress themselves, much less figure out which way to point their guns---"

Doom's displeasure was obvious even without seeing his face. He advanced on the younger man, reprimanding him: "These men are murderers, drug dealers, thugs, and renegades. Men with power and their own vision for this country. Kubeka and his soldiers have friends in very high places in the Latverian government who go to a lot of trouble to see that these guerrillas are never brought to justice. They've kept this province cut off from the progress made by the rest of Latveria, kept these people in the Middle Ages while the rest of the world moves forward. And they're responsible for the murder of thousands of people like those villagers…including my father. By no stretch of the imagination, not for one minute, should you ever believe they are 'harmless'. I've also told you not to underestimate any enemy…or is that how Reed Richards and Ben Grimm taught you to fight? By reining back your true power? By weakness and foolish miscalculation?"

Johnny did not back down. The younger man's eyes narrowed and his hands clenched and unclenched, bursting into flames that betrayed simmering anger elicited by the mention of 'Mr. Fantastic'. Victor was right about one thing: Reed Richards was the kind of leader who held back, afraid to let his team cut loose and test the limits of their powers (unless it was in a nice, antiseptic, 'safe' and boring laboratory setting), and who hesitated when he should have acted. That was one reason Johnny had ditched the Fantastic Four to come back to work for Von Doom.

A piece of advice Von Doom had given Johnny came to mind: "_You need to put the past behind you, if you'll pardon the cliché. Otherwise, the past is an Achilles Heel that your enemies can use against you."_

He'd had it up to his ears with Reed and Ben and Sue being on his ass constantly about 'behaving responsibly' and making him hold back when he wanted to push the limits of his powers because of their own Nervous Nellie attitudes. Hell, they were probably even jealous of Johnny's popularity outpacing theirs. Maybe Sue could deal with Mr. Wishy-Washy and Ben the Grouch, but Johnny had awakened one night unable to stand that freak show for one more minute. He'd gotten the hell out of there…and he sure didn't want _anyone_ reminding him of what an idiot he'd been not jettisoning that dead-end crew sooner. Victor might be Johnny's boss now, but no one was going to tell him how to fight or how to use his powers anymore. He was going to grab his opportunities, no more holding back.

"_Others falter and hesitate. You and I had the wisdom to see the potential of what we might become and…to take what we wanted. When I say that I see myself in you, Johnny, it's because you---like me---are a man who embraces his destiny. I knew it the day I hired you, and I know it still. That's why I picked you for this, Johnny."_

Johnny frowned. _When had Doom said all that?_ He knew the words had come from Victor, but for the life of him, Johnny couldn't recall when they'd had that particular conversation.

He doused his flames, but met Doom's disapproving glare. "I'm sorry about your old man, but get one thing straight: I could give a flying fig about what Reed Richards or Ben Grimm think or whether they approve of how I do things. Let's compare, shall we? Victor Von Doom School of Fighting gives us a flattened, very dead, and otherwise useless bad guy. Johnny Storm School of Fighting gives us live prisoners like the wonder twins back there playing in the mud right now. Live prisoners are much more chatty than dead opponents. You know, in case you want to talk to them about things like who their 'friends in high places' are and where they can be found." Johnny gave his employer a rather self-satisfied grin.

As far as Johnny remembered, leaving the Fantastic Four and seeking out Victor Von Doom for employment was his own idea and the memory of his imprisonment and mental programming had been supplanted by the memory of spending a quiet, dull four days waiting at Von Doom's facilities in Chendryn for the next fight. In actuality, Dr. Sater had spent the past four days refining what she called her 'mental reconditioning' on the former superhero, making sure his newly programmed attitudes and loyalties were flawlessly adopted by the boy, before Victor had dispatched Johnny to handle the assault on this small village for a test run.

Victor's mouth twisted into a smile that was hidden from the younger man by the mask. It was just the reaction Doom had hoped for from the boy---the perfectly programmed response Doom had wanted to hear.

Doom might have been frowning or smiling beneath his mask or just mulling over what Johnny had said. The younger man couldn't tell until Victor nodded, almost imperceptibly. "You're right, of course."

He headed back towards the village, gesturing for Johnny to follow. "Men who grasp the importance of power and don't shy away from the opportunities to use it for the greater good are never understood or appreciated by weaker minded fools like the Troublesome Trio---or our friends down there."

Von Doom glanced at the guerrillas, who were now overpowered by the peasant farmers. "My father spent his entire life caring for the people of this province. He gave his life for them. I've felt obliged to carry on helping them in his name. I'm sure you understand. You're father was a doctor, wasn't he?"

Yeah, Johnny could relate, but Sue was the one who carried on in Dad's name by studying medicine. She loved sitting at his desk with him, reading through medical books and journals that were way too advanced for almost any other teenager except Susie. Johnny inherited their father's affection for very fine cars and motorcycles, and could repair an engine as well as their surgeon dad could heal the human body. He supposed his obsession with them could be considered carrying on their Sunday afternoon ritual of locking themselves in the garage with whatever vehicle needed rebuilding. He just hadn't thought of it that way until now.

Von Doom was still talking: "Ridding this province of the last remnants of Kubeka's tyranny is just the beginning of what I have planned. How serious are you about wanting to help these people?"

"Serious as Pebbles when someone snags his last snickerdoodle."

"Good. I can promise, you're going to use your powers to do more for Latveria than chasing out the 'schoolyard bullies', Johnny…and you've given me a very good idea indeed. Round up what's left of Mufale's scum and take them back to Dr. Sater's laboratory. After you've finished with that, I'll speak to you at the power plant---I may have a 'more interesting' task for you…if you don't have qualms about reclaiming some property of mine?"

Again, Johnny's response was what Doom hoped to hear: "That's why you pay me the big bucks, right?" he answered.

With the threat from Mufale past, the villagers' attention had shifted to their unlikely saviors. As Johnny headed over to round up the duo he'd encased in mud (who were discouraged from trying to wriggle free of their confinement by the farmer with the scythe), a crowd swarmed around both him and Von Doom. The Human Torch quickly gained a group of children and younger women. The children clamored to see another ball of flame. The ladies, Johnny noticed, were staring at him with particular admiration. _Some things never changed no matter what country he was in…thank God._

The men were giving respectful nods to Dr. Doom. Rafi was the only one who dared offer a handshake to the imposing guardian of the province. It was a bit of an adjustment on Johnny's part to know that he was now in a country where Victor Von Doom, despite his recent changes to the imposing figure he was now, was a revered humanitarian. But, that was why Johnny had chosen to join Von Doom---the chance to use his power to do great things…starting with helping these poor folks. _No one should have to live with this kind of poverty and fear._

However, Johnny was more interested in the pretty girls who were watching him than in philosophical ponderings. "Hello, ladies. Know any swimming holes around here where a superhero can clean up? Maybe that lake I saw? I know it's frozen over, but I can make my own hot springs pretty fast…"

A few of the bolder girls returned his suggestive grin despite the warning glares from what had to be fathers, brothers, and maybe boyfriends. "Can you still, how you say, 'flame on' if you are wet?" a voluptuous raven-haired girl asked.

"How badly do you want to know?" Johnny countered.

Doom's voice interjected, "Johnny---"

The Human Torch made a face. _Duty calls._ The girls stared apprehensively at the cloak-shrouded figure until Johnny reassured them, "What…him? Don't get antsy. The boss is just a little scary-ass looking, but underneath that hard metal exterior is a big ball of titanium and steel. Rain check on the lake, okay ladies?"

A brunette furrowed her brow in confusion. "What does this mean, 'rain check'?"

He winked at her, "It means I'm definitely coming back for that swim. But, for now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some refuse to collect." Regretfully, Johnny left the lovely women and strode back to the subdued thugs.

The guerrillas, trapped in the soil and pelted with garbage by the children, forgot the indignity of their plight when they saw the Human Torch approaching them again, a wicked gleam in his eye and he pulled off his gloves. When Johnny reached down and caught both of the soldiers by their unburied necks, the guerrillas closed their eyes and said swift prayers, waiting for the searing heat and fire that would end their lives.

So it was a surprise, as unpleasant as the flames would have been, when the contact with the human fireball's hands turned their skin and blood not to fire but into ice…


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story._

**3**

"He still hesitates to kill, even though I gave him explicit instructions to do so. I thought the post-hypnotic commands were supposed to make him obey me without question, Dr. Sater?"

Eleanora Sater sighed---ever so quietly, less the steel figure pacing around her laboratory interpret it as a sign of insolence. Some days, Nora truly and whole-heartedly revered the man who had been Victor Von Doom. Thousands of Latverians---herself included---owed their very existence to the man and to his father. Nora's mother had been saved from a raging fever by the elder Von Doom, and Nora owed her opportunity to leave the backwoods villages of Latveria to attend college in the United States (at age thirty-two no less) to Victor's humanitarian and educational aid programs, funded by the small corporations he'd set up in Latveria before heading to the United States. The companies in Latveria brought work and money to the impoverished regions like Chendryn for many years. Now, they gave her unlimited financial support for her research.

Provided that her research focused on areas selected by Victor Von Doom.

Still, there were as many days that Nora feared him. She was a psychiatrist, well versed in medicine, but it didn't take a doctor to know that the man now called 'Doom' was dangerous. Dangerous, unpredictable, keenly intelligent, and psychopathic would have been her evaluation. These traits made an unstable mixture that might explode one day and destroy not only Von Doom but also all those around and allied with him as well.

Nora wondered, on days when her fear outweighed her admiration, if her own grasp on sanity had slipped away without her being aware of it. She shouldn't be there, under Doom's thumb, under his control, putting her work at his disposal. It was foolish. It was madness. Yet, the fear was never strong enough to compel her to leave. Latveria needed the help Von Doom had to offer. So, for the sake of her country, loyalty and gratitude won out and she stayed in the palace that was now Doom's base of operations in Latveria and did whatever was asked of her.

If Doom hadn't insisted on using a hurriedly rigged chamber and compressing her program into a shorter cycle than she'd intended, had let her simply bring Johnny Storm to Latveria for a proper session in the first place, the programming would have been perfect and the supplemental sessions would have been unnecessary. She's tried explaining that to Von Doom---along with the fact that outside voices intruding into the session and fabricating memories to account for missing time tended to destabilize the program---but he had insisted that Johnny's 'conversion' be witnessed by his family and the rest of the world. Doom wanted his enemies to suffer for their previous betrayals.

Sater, naturally, took the blame when the programming flaws she'd warned about manifested.

"I could have activated the command for unquestioning obedience into Mr. Storm, but it was your instruction that our test subjects be more than mindless automatons, yes? To preserve basic personality traits? To plant false memories, alter his core ethics, retrain him to despise this 'Fantastic Four', and make him accept you as a mentor?" Nora reminded Doom.

The latter had been simple to accomplish---a matter of reviewing the Storm family history, use the post-hypnotic commands to heighten the son's feelings of abandonment after the loss of the parents, and exploiting the natural need for a surrogate (especially a paternal) parental figure. All she needed to do was retrain the boy to view Doctor Doom in that capacity.

However, there were many things her Compressed Hypnotics Behavioral Reconditioning Program was _not_ meant to do and making slaves of unsuspecting souls topped the list. It was intended for use in helping people whose minds—by chemical imbalance, injury, or birth defect---had betrayed them into behaviors that made them a public danger: Sexual predators. Violent criminals. Murderers. She took a covert look at Doctor Doom. _He'd have been a perfect test subject. Instead, he controlled all applications of the program. _"The only command you wished implanted into Mr. Storm with regards to killing was the command to kill the Fantastic Four---and he _will_ kill them on sight. I guarantee that."

Doom chuckled, not a pleasant sound coming from him. "That much I noticed when he left the Baxter Building. Don't be so defensive, Doctor. So far, I'm impressed with what you've accomplished with Storm. You've even convinced Johnny that leaving the Troublesome Trio and joining his former archenemy was completely his own idea. He hasn't even attempted to contact them in the past five days."

Victor controlled every means of communication in the Chendryn province---easy to do when the only phones (cellular, satellite or otherwise), television, or Internet access to be found in the region were in his palace or the hideaways of Kubeka's men. There was no chance of Storm's family making contact with him…all the better to convince him that they'd accepted his 'resignation', and Nora's post-hypnotic commands would prevent him for so much as considering flying away or communicating through other means. Under Victor's censorship, all Johnny saw were the television reports and stray Internet postings denouncing him as a 'renegade'.

"The possible applications for the technology you've created are---"

"Terrifying?" The word slipped out before Nora could prevent it.

Fortunately, Doctor Doom was caught up in his own self-congratulatory monologue. "---Astonishing. Limitless." Seeing that the psychiatrist did not share his zeal, Doom stopped his pacing and became serious. "I still need to know that Johnny Storm's 'retuned' opinion of his family is solid. I'm sending him to retrieve property of mine from Selva-Uitti in the morning and interference from the Troublesome Trio is unavoidable. So, before the family comes searching for baby brother, I want you to evaluate him one more time and be sure I have his undivided loyalty. I can't afford mistakes. Without Storm's cooperation, we can forget the plans I made for Latveria's future." Doom stared at the woman.

Nora did not miss the veiled threat beneath his words. She squirmed a bit on her chair but met Doom's unyielding stare. It angered her that, after compliance to his every request with this project, that he would still threaten her. She had learned that Doom was more than willing to repay failure and disloyalty by punishing not only the offender but also those whom the perpetrator loved and cherished. It was an effective method of guaranteeing obedience from his 'employees', and it again caused fear to war with admiration within Nora. She didn't have family left to hurt, but she had Latveria.

Her cooperation with Doom always stemmed from the faith that the humanitarian who loved Latveria still existed beneath that steel creature he'd become, and that Victor would fulfill his promises to bring more food, security, sanitation, electricity---life and hope---to the land that was Nora's home.

She glanced through the window at the ice-covered lake, which backed up to the cliffs upon which the palace stood, and the titanium dome that had been erected along the mountains near Doom's palace, the dome that represented Latveria's hope and life. It was the power plant that Victor Von Doom was constructing to finally bring electricity into this province, the first of many improvements promised to her people…so long as they stayed in Von Doom's good graces. It didn't matter if the purchase price was Nora's soul, she would do her part to make those promises come to fruition. She would not give him any reason to withhold his favors from her people.

"Do not concern yourself with the Americans. If, by chance, they do remove Mr. Storm from our keeping, he's been programmed to escape and return to Latveria---with deadly force if necessary--- or to die trying," Nora promised.

The figure standing at the other end of her desk almost seemed amused by that notion. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that---it would be unfortunate if Johnny Storm were to die before he's done his part for our plans." Doom took a seat across from her and leaned back, folding his hands in front of him in a contemplative posture that indicated he was back in 'businessman' mode…a more stable frame of mind approaching, but not quite reaching, sanity. Nora relaxed a bit. She could deal with him much better when he was in this mood. "When will you try?"

Doom drummed his fingers, reviewing all possible scenarios in his mind. He was acutely aware that time was not on his side---not where the Troublesome Trio was concerned. Five days had elapsed since Doom abducted their youngest member, far more time than he would have thought would pass without a rescue attempt. That meant that Richards was mired in trying to figure out what Nora's box had done to Johnny Storm and how to undo the damage.

Richards was too smart to blunder in blindly. He would guess (correctly) that Victor hadn't gone to the trouble of brainwashing Johnny just to kill him immediately. Knowing that, Richards would wait until he was sure he had the way to counter-program Johnny, and then he would act. Johnny would resist, and Doom would act on behalf of his new protégé, but the outcome of the confrontation was far from certain. If the Troublesome Trio were beaten back, they would return again and again until they retrieved Johnny or were killed in the attempt. The latter outcome was, naturally, the most appealing to Doom.

All things considered, it would be better if Doom got what he needed from the Human Torch's powers before his family interfered.

What Doom needed was the Torch's supernova powers. The means for its acquisition presented the possibility---a very strong possibility---that the young man would be killed due to heat expenditure and/or strain on his body. Doom had no real disdain for Johnny Storm. He was by far the least objectionable of the Fantastic Four, and Doom hadn't lied when he'd said that he noted some of his own better qualities in the boy. Their past differences of opinions aside, Storm was a useful employee now that Dr. Sater had given him a 'personality refinement'.

However, Doom was prepared to sacrifice the young man as a means to an end…for the good of Latveria, and especially for Doom's own advantage. Emotions could not get in the way of what had to be done. Logic must prevail. Rationally, if Johnny died in the course of helping Doom, his permanent absence wouldn't hamper Victor in the least…but it would cripple and devastate the Fantastic Four. Doom would benefit, and Latveria would become a world power. Millions of lives versus one? You didn't need logic to know which course to choose.

If Johnny should survive, and Dr. Sater's program worked as it should, Doom would have a strong ally and Johnny would be the right hand of the most powerful man in the world. That was also acceptable and justified the risk to the boy.

If Johnny survived and the Troublesome Trio somehow countered Dr. Sater's programming, Johnny had learned new uses for his powers under Doom's tutelage in the past five days, powers that he could use in future battles. That was ample payment for his service to Latveria and again justified the risk as far as Doom was concerned.

Yes, Doom could place the boy in harm's way with a clean conscience---if he allowed himself the weakness of having a conscience, that is.

"After Johnny retrieves my property, when the technicians have everything in place, if all goes well, my protégé will lend his considerable powers to the advancement and improvement of Latveria," Doom answered. "And you, Dr. Sater, will be able to say that you had a hand in making Latveria into a world power. How many psychiatrists can say their inventions helped shift the balance of power in the world?"

There was a spark of doubt in the woman's eyes in reaction to Doom's words. Although Victor chose to ignore it for the time being, it still rankled him. _Doubt was dangerous. Doubt was weakness. Doubt lead to betrayal._ Yes, he would have to keep an eye on Dr. Sater, just to be sure her dedication to their mutual objective hadn't been tainted by weakness of conviction now that there was the possibility of bloodshed.

Doom stood, and Nora cringed inwardly until she saw that there was nothing threatening in his posture. In fact, his tone was almost kind. "I'll let you get back to your work, Doctor. I'll even provide you with a few new lab rats to use in refining your program."

Doom pressed a button on his wrist communicator, and the door to Nora's lab opened to reveal his ever-present assistant Leonard and two of Doom's hired soldiers. Doom's men carried two of Kubeka's guerrillas over their shoulders and dumped the murderous pigs onto her floor. The figures in paramilitary fatigues were immobile---and not just because of the shackles on their arms and legs. Their lips were tinted blue and their skin was so pale that Nora knew if she touched them it would be cold as ice. Their faces had literally frozen in expressions of astonishment and fear. This was the only time Nora recalled feeling any inkling of pity for these killers, and she dismissed the sympathy at once. They deserved far worse than this.

"Once you have them under your control, there are some questions I want them to answer---the name of their friends in the Latverian government, and the location where the rest of their army is hiding," Doom instructed her.

"My God, what happened to them?" she couldn't help asking. Severe hypothermia seemed the obvious diagnosis, but how had they gotten into this condition?

Doom gloated a bit. "A little trick I taught my protégé."

_Johnny Storm had done this_? Nora gaped. Doom was right—the boy was more powerful than he appeared.

"It's a shame Johnny probably won't survive our plans---he definitely has potential," was all Doom had to say. With that, he strode out of the laboratory, Leonard on his heels, and left Nora wondering again if she'd made a wise choice allying herself with the humanitarian-turned-madman.

A tunnel cut through the mountains connected the half-finished power plant to Victor Von Doom's palatial compound. At the center of the power station sat a titanium dome that resembled an overturned salad bowl that had fallen out of the sky and landed among the thick forests of Chendryn. At least, that's what it reminded Johnny of.

Victor had asked him to wait inside that dome, but the place was giving the Human Torch a major case of the creeps. There was a dormant generator of some sort at the center of the room. A catwalk circled the generator. When the door of the metal dome was shut, it sealed so neatly that it effectively formed a seamless, invisible seal. Cameras monitored the room and the lights of the computers blinked in strobe patterns. Johnny had never been claustrophobic, but just standing in that room was making him feel like he couldn't breathe. He leaned on the rails of the catwalk and tried to force himself to relax.

Something else wasn't right, and he couldn't pin down what it was. So, when the door unsealed itself to open for Doctor Doom, Johnny greeted him with a to-the-point, "What have you got in here? Something's weird."

Doom walked the circumference of the catwalk, pouring over the generator and computers like a proud father. If he thought Johnny was going to follow, he was crazy. Johnny had the almost-irresistible impulse to step outside the minute the door opened, and he didn't plan to move more that three steps from the invisible door after it closed. The machinery wasn't _that_ interesting.

"This mountain was struck by a small meteor millions of years ago. Before Kubeka and Mufale took control of the province, geologists and their students would come here every summer to dig into the caves looking for fragments of the space rock. I watched them work sometimes when I was a child. I even played in these caves. The scientists were purely interested in what the meteorites could tell them about the origin of the universe. They had no idea what was really down here. I didn't know either, not until after my---evolution." Doom smiled at his protégé beneath his steel mask. "You sense it, too?"

"Something down here has my Spidey-sense tingling if that's what you mean," Johnny confirmed.

"Our mutation heightened our sensitivity to the 'energy', for want of a better word, from the meteor fragments." Victor moved to the generator's main controls and pressed a button. The generator rumbled and panels opened like flower petals. A claw descended from the ceiling and retrieved a crystal the size of a pea. "After my company purchased this land five years ago, we mined several large meteorites and a thousand or more small fragments like this one. I'd planned to donate the more spectacular pieces to museums in Latveria and sell the remaining ones to universities and research laboratories. As I said, I didn't know what I had at the time. I never got the chance to carry out my plans. Selva-Uitti stole my research and all the large meteorites during its hostile takeover of my corporations. All I had left were these miniscule bits. But those small pieces were sufficient to show me what I had missed all these years---after my evolution allowed me to understand what these stones really are."

_The boss sure loved putting on a show. _Johnny humored him. "Okay, I'll bite---what are they?"

Doom tossed the small crystal to Johnny. It landed on his palm.

"Try to burn it," Doom instructed. There was amusement in his tone, and Johnny would have thought the boss was pranking him if Doom had ever shown a sense of humor before.

"O-kay, it's your space rock. Just don't take it out of my paycheck if it melts," Johnny said. He called up his flames, just on that hand, turning the flame up slowly so that he could stop at the first hint of damage to the crystalline meteorite.

The rock began to glow from its core. Johnny lost control of the situation almost immediately. The meteorite began drawing heat out of his body like a leech. His hand went cold, then his lower arm, and the stone glowed all the brighter. Flames replaced his skin and the stone radiance intensified while Johnny felt his own temperature fall. Unconsciousness beckoned; His vision blurred and it became very hard to keep his eyes open. He thought he heard Doom shout something, but the words were drowned out by the roar of his own flames.

"_That's enough_!" Something struck Johnny's hand, knocking the crystal from his grasp. Doom caught Johnny by the elbow, his iron grip keeping the younger man upright. The stone clattered across the catwalk. Johnny wouldn't have gone after it, even if he weren't too dizzy to walk. Doom guided him over to the railing, and the younger man leaned heavily on the bars for support until his vision stopped spinning and his body began replenishing its considerable heat.

When the boy had recovered a bit more, Doom assured him, "I apologize, Johnny. I had no idea the reaction would be that severe." That was a lie of course, with a kernel of truth to it. He really couldn't afford to risk the Human Torch's life on this small fragment. Doom needed a much larger piece of the meteor for what he had planned.

Victor moved to retrieve the stone. It radiated light, but was cool to the touch…just as he'd expected and hoped. "In ten seconds, you just proved a hypothesis my best scientists haven't been able to prove in the past six months. To put it in non-scientific terms, the rocks are thermal batteries. Bio-thermal batteries to be specific. Ordinary humans don't generate adequate heat to act as a catalyst, and the rocks only react to biological heat sources. My scientists here theorized that if a biological source could produce enough heat to create that reaction, the physical structure of the crystals would allow them not only to store that heat, but to regenerate and emit it as pure energy…pure self-sustaining, self-_regenerating_, energy."

Johnny wasn't going to pretend that made complete sense to him, but he could see where Doom was headed with this. Gingerly, he let go of the railing and was glad his unsteady legs supported him. "So you wanted me to fire this bad boy up and see if their theory panned out?"

"I admit that curiosity got the better of me. Can you imagine the potential if the theory _is_ correct? This mountain produced thousands of small pieces of meteorites like this one. The applications for them are almost limitless. Cars could run indefinitely powered by a stone the size of a dime. Homes would no longer depend on wood or heating oil. There'd be no environmental damage from fuel refineries, no nuclear waste to bury. It would be a revolution in the world energy market, with Latveria reaping the profits as the world's only supplier. People like our friends in the village would go from lanterns and latrines to world superpower overnight," Doom postulated.

Johnny crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "It's a nice idea, boss. Only problem is if it sounds too good to be true…"

Doom returned the dormant meteorite to its storage case inside the generator. The panels closed around the stone. "This generator station was built to convert the energy emitted by the stones into electricity. It could power all of Latveria with one of the large stones Selva-Uitti Corporation stole from me when they stole my corporations. Theoretically."

"Theory and five dollars will buy a small cup of coffee at Starbuck's," Johnny answered. "Basically, you want me to fly up to Selva-Uitti, get your space rocks back, then hit 'em with a nova blast and see if they spark or if this is all a bunch of garbage, right? Gotta tell you, I'm still thinking it sounds like whoever came up with that theory spent way too much time sitting in the lab watching _Star Trek._"

"You've already proven it isn't garbage." Doom rounded the generator, heading back to the door. "The level of bio-generated heat required for a catalyst for the meteorites is almost the temperature of the sun. I've see Richard's files. I know that generating that level of heat is life threatening to you. I wouldn't have a problem with that if you were still under his misguided leadership, but you're not. You're far too valuable to my team and to Latveria alive. I'd never ask you to risk your life on a theory."

Johnny grinned. "You don't need to ask. I'm completely on board with the whole 'save the world and get super rich doing it' concept."

"I was right about you, Johnny, you are a man with vision, just like me." Doom clapped the boy on the shoulder. He keyed open the door. Johnny wasted no time getting out of that unnerving steel box.

Leonard waited for them in the corridor outside. He stayed a few paces behind as the trio headed towards the adjoining tunnel back in the direction of Doom's palace. Doom instructed: "I'll have a jet waiting for you at the airfield in Mufale. You can leave first thing in the morning. Leonard will have all the information on Selva-Uitti's facility in New Jersey ready for you by then." He paused and looked the boy squarely in the eye. "I need to know first---will you have any problems if your family decides to interfere with your assignment?"

Anger at the mention of them involuntarily triggered Johnny's flames. "No problems at all," he said. With great effort, he brought himself back under control and the flames died out.

"I'm glad to hear it. In the meantime, I believe Dr. Sater is taking a load of supplies down to the village this afternoon. I think I can spare you for one evening if you'd like to renew your acquaintance with some of the ladies there. Have fun."

Johnny's grin was back. "Always." Throwing Victor a mock salute, the Human Torch found an exterior door and flew off to find Dr. Sater and the supply trucks.

"He's willing to steal," Doom approved. "I wonder what else he'll do now that Dr. Sater's program had altered his bothersome concepts of right and wrong. This should be interesting."

"You could have simply set Dr. Sater's program onto—what did she call it? Autopilot? You could just order Mr. Storm to perform your test, sir. Why go to the trouble of convincing him to go along with your plan?" Leonard wondered.

"If I'm going to make the boy sacrifice his life, he at least deserves to know the reason why, Leonard. Or part of the reason, at least." Doom turned to his assistant. "And scientific curiosity. I'm enjoying seeing the results of Dr. Sater's work. In fact, I may owe the good Doctor an apology for doubting her skills. I'm looking forward to finding out if she turned our Mr. Storm against his family as effectively as she turned him into my model employee. Leonard, make sure the press in New Jersey knows to expect an…incident…at the Selva-Uitti facility tomorrow. I want live coverage on every network."

Reed Richards would be monitoring the news for any mention of his wayward brother-in-law, Victor knew. He would interfere, and try to come to the boy's rescue. There was no way around that problem. Doom needed the satellite feed from the reporters' coverage to keep an eye on what Johnny did when his family showed up.

"Is that wise, sir?" Leonard asked.

"If I'm going to this much trouble to arrange a family reunion, I'd hate for the Troublesome Trio to miss it."

Nora had intended to wait until night before obeying Doom's orders to re-evaluate Johnny Storm. It would be far easier to have the guards remove Storm from his room in the employee's wing of the palace if he was asleep. She could have completed another session of her Behavioral Modification Program and had him back in his room without his ever being aware.

Von Doom, however, was not a patient man. Nora was loading the medical supplies and food Chendryn's benefactor had provided into a truck to deliver to the villagers before the blizzard came hit when a familiar voice greeted her cheerfully, "Hey, Doc!" as Johnny reached over, relieved her of the heavy box, and loaded it onto the vehicle for her.

"Mr. Storm, thank you," she said. Recalling her American slang, Nora asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Boss thinks some of the goon squad might be hacked off about us icing their buddies, so no one's supposed to head into the forest without a heavily-armed chaperone. So, you up for some company?" He held open the driver's side door for her, offering a wide smile meant to charm her into agreement.

As she climbed into the driver's seat, Nora glimpsed a hooded figure watching the exchange from the balcony of Doom's private chambers. She knew what her employer wanted her to do: Conduct an impromptu counseling session while she had Storm in the truck with her, then use the taser weapon she carried in her coat pocket to subdue the boy. After that, she was meant to take him back to her laboratory so any programming flaws could be reversed before he was sent to confront his family the following day. She wished Von Doom would trust her to handle any refinements of the young man's programming her own way.

"And you get to spend some time with the girls in the village, I'm guessing?" she teased the young man.

If possible, Johnny's grin grew wider. "Pretty girls and the chance for a fight? No way I'm going to pass that up." He circled around to the passenger side and climbed into the truck. "Besides, I can see what farm folks around her do for a night life." _And hook up with some of the ladies he'd saved that morning, play up the whole 'superhero' angle._

"I see. A little free advice?" Nora offered.

"Long as I don't have to get it by lying on a couch while you tell me how dreams about turtles in tutus is some hidden Freudian Oedipal thing."

As Nora wrestled the old pick up into gear and turned onto the road, Johnny kept his eyes on the hills and trees around them, watching for the first sign of trouble. Von Doom had vehicles in better condition available, but they made highly visible targets for men like Mufale when traveling in a province where motor vehicles were almost unheard of. She saw her passenger wince as the truck bounced and bucked over the smallest ruts in the snow-covered road. "Well, that does sound fascinating, Mr. Storm---"

"You can call me Johnny, Doc."

"---but I'm a Behavior Modification Therapist, not a Freudian."

Johnny shrugged. "A shrink's a shrink. What's the difference?"

"Behaviorists can think of much more fun things to do on a couch than talk about Mom and Dad."

The comment and her wicked grin were so unexpected coming from the serious and mannered Dr. Sater that Johnny almost choked laughing. _Okay, so Doc Sater's all right,_ he decided. Hell, if he were ten years older, he might have forgotten about the girls in the village in favor of seeing how far the woman would continue with that train of thought. If he were ten years older and didn't have an innate distrust of shrinks born of too many psychological evaluations for one lifetime---the court-ordered counseling after the loss of his parents and before they'd grant Sue guardianship of her younger brother, the countless psychological tests during his flight training, and the tests before he was hired for Von Doom's space program.

"Fair enough. So, what's the free advice?"

Nora grew serious now, "Your lady friends come from a very close-knit farming community, which means they most likely have fathers, brothers, and uncles always within ear shot and very adept at using sharp farming tools."

"Ouch." On second thought, maybe Johnny would call up Nurse Marie and see if she felt like taking a weekend trip to the Latverian countryside instead.

_Probably not. _ He hadn't watched television or been on the Internet since coming to Latveria, his cell phone didn't even work here, but he guessed that his resignation from the Fantastic Four and going to work for the widely-despised Von Doom was earning him points with most of the folks back home.

Nora had to resist the urge to laugh when he blanched at the mental picture of being chased by angry farmers bearing said implements. "Our province is very different than where you come from, yes?"

As the pick up reached the outskirts of the village and began rolling past houses that would need a visit from the _Extreme Makeover: Home Edition_ team to be upgraded to 'hovels', Johnny sobered a bit. His family never did without electricity—or sewers---when he was growing up, but Johnny sure knew how it felt to live practically hand-to-mouth and to work his ass off for not enough money to live on. He and Sue had done that for years after the lawyers' fees for their father and for family court had gobbled up what money their parents had left them.

"Well, I wouldn't say 'no' to the boss adding Dish Network or DSL or a cell phone tower, but don't sell yourselves short. I mean there aren't many places where you have the chance to run across folks with cattle prods back in New York, not since they chased the hookers out of Times Square anyway. But, there's a few clubs on the East Side I haven't visited, so I could be wrong about that," he cracked. He knew what she meant, however.

The off-handed remarks made Nora uneasy. _Was he homesick?_ That could be a problem, a programming glitch. The program should have quelled any desire to return to the United States or to his family. If Johnny had the sudden impulse, despite his post-hypnotic commands, to fly home, she could not stop him. If the program had not erased all his doubts about abandoning his family---and he was sure to cross paths with them on his mission the next day---it was possible they could exacerbate that flaw and turn him back to their side.

She knew how Doctor Doom would respond to that turn of events, and it terrified her. Automatically, one of her hands felt for the taser in her pocket. They were almost to the village. If she were going to use the taser and take Storm back to the laboratory for another session of programming, she had to act now, before they were spotted.

She couldn't quite bring herself to take up the weapon.

"If you miss New York, I'm sure Mr. Von Doom wouldn't mind if you wanted a vacation---"

Johnny's eyes narrowed. Had Nora not been struggling both to keep the truck from bouncing off the road and with the debate going on in her head, she would have seen a flash of fire behind his eyes.

"---I'm sure your family, what do they call themselves—the 'Fantastic Four'---they would be glad to see you," Nora hinted. She waited, holding her breath, for his answer.

Johnny's tone was cold. "I don't think so." If they gave a damn about him, they would have come looking for him by now. He supposed they'd gotten the message that he didn't want to be followed when he incinerated most of their house.

"You don't want to see your family?" Nora managed to fake surprise. Inwardly, she was enormously relieved to hear it.

"I don't think they'll be thrilled with my change of careers." He shifted nervously on his side of the bench seat, already regretting coming along for the ride. Shrinks were the same in any country---he was as good as on a couch trip in less than five minutes. "They aren't what you'd call fond of Von Doom." He wasn't even going to discuss blowing up the Baxter Building on his way out of town. She'd probably read hostility issues in that.

"Then why would you---?"

His answer came out precisely as she had programmed. "Ah, they always did think I'm a flake anyway, so what the hell. At least Von Doom knows talent when he sees it, kind of like a----"

"_If you stick with me, I'll help you fulfill that potential". _

"_I was the one who was prepared to be that mentor, that father figure. I still am." _

Johnny faltered. He started to say 'father figure', but he didn't know why. He'd had plenty of people---from that idiot middle school Principal Vincent right up to Reed Richards---pulling that surrogate big brother-father figure b.s. on him. The last thing he needed was to be let down by another one. He could feel his temper rise at the idea. Johnny just barely got control of the sudden flash of anger before he lost control of his power and flamed.

Dr. Sater provided a more palatable word: "A mentor?"

Yeah, 'mentor' Johnny could deal with. "Sort of."

Nora nodded, secretly pleased---and disconcerted---by how smoothly her post-hypnotic commands had integrated themselves into his subconscious, his ethics, his logic, his entire decision-making process without Storm even being aware that his mind had been altered. Her program was functioning perfectly.

If it were being used for its intended purpose instead of making an unwitting slave of an innocent boy, Nora might have even felt like celebrating her accomplishment. Instead, all she felt was elation coupled with the feeling the need to throw up.

They rode on in silence for a minute before Nora asked: "You saved many people with your powers?"

"My fair share," he answered.

"You do know that what you've done with the gifts God gave you has already saved many lives here, too?"

_Gifts from God_? Johnny finally summoned his flames, limiting them just to his fingertips so the doctor didn't freak out and wrap the truck around a tree. He had always believed he'd received his powers for a reason---that everything in his life had been preparation for them---but somehow he'd never phrased it quite that way.

Nora turned the pick up off the main road and onto a narrower path that lead across the open fields into the village. Children spied the truck and recognized their rescuer from that morning sitting in the passenger seat. They began to chase after the vehicle, waving and shouting greetings in Latverian. Johnny's spirits were lifted considerably by the sight. He waved back at them.

"You can see, you are one of us now, and we're grateful to have you." It occurred to her that she was almost apologizing to her passenger for an offense Johnny didn't even know she'd committed against him. "You can change many lives here---and perhaps then your family will understand your decision?"

More people had gathered to meet the pick up as it rolled into the village. The children swarmed around Johnny's side of the truck. He spied some of his pretty female admirers from that morning standing among the crowd. As he opened the door to climb out, ever so careful not to hit the over-eager kids on the other side, Johnny told her: "It's a nice thought, Doc, but I wouldn't hold my breath."

Then he was gone. Nora let loose of the unused taser she'd been fingering for most of the drive and sighed. There was nothing more she could do, and she hadn't the heart (or the stomach) to subject the boy to any more sessions. The post-hypnotic commands were functioning as best they could. When she returned to Von Doom's compound, she would tell him so. She only hoped her work had been good enough. If not…then she very likely had made a fatal mistake just now.

Nora would have her answer in a few hours.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story._

**4**

Perhaps the shortest-lived criminal career in New York City was the fifteen-minute crime spree begun late that afternoon by citizens Walter Vincent, Ray Zanoni, and Carl Imez, a group of shortsighted teenage boys with visions of I-Pods and tricked out Mustangs in their heads. It began with a simple case of shoplifting said mp3 players from a convenient electronics store and might have ended there had not success emboldened them to bigger and better scores. Thirteen minutes later, amidst a clamor of store alarms and shouts, and leaving two elderly victims with minor stab wounds, they had acquired the contents of five tourists' purses and two gas station cash registers before piling back into Vincent's dilapidated Jetta to flee any police pursuits.

Two minutes after that, the Jetta was reduced to a large heap of scrap metal, Zanoni hung by his boxers from a bus stop sign, Vincent was imprisoned at the center of a tire removed forcibly from his vehicle, and Imez was entangled in the awning of a nearby hotel (to the amusement of the doorman and bellboys)…all with an warning from their stone-skinned captor to reconsider their career options once they got out of juvenile hall.

Ben Grimm's disposition matched his name that afternoon. Leaving the teenagers to the care of the cops, ignoring the stares and applause of people gathered along the sidewalks, he lumbered back in the direction of the Baxter Building.

Half of the jokers in the city had decided that, with the Human Torch gone missing—and possibly gone off his rocker, the Fantastic Four would somehow be distracted or disadvantaged and had decided to put their theory to the test with a fresh wave of crime. Every time Ben had to break away from his work on getting their plane ready to fly to wrangle one of these ding-dongs was that much more of a delay before the Fantastic Four could get down to Latveria and rescue Johnny from whatever the hell kinds of plans doom had made for their youngest member. Resenting the lost time more and more with each incident, Ben was hard-pressed to remind himself that ordinary (non-mutated) citizens would break like glass if he didn't rein in his strength apprehending them.

Five days was a very long time, Ben had discovered. It was a lot of time to dwell on 'what ifs' and, as far as he was concerned (though Reed would disagree), no good ever came from too much time to think.

As he passed the same electronics store where the teenagers had begun their crime spree, Ben automatically closed his mind and ears to the news reports blaring from the televisions in the store window. Five days was also too much time to listen to reporters trashing the kid every day. The fact that no one had seen hide nor hair (nor spark) of the Human Torch for almost a week didn't stop the some news station and papers from running paranoid stories and speculation---anything to keep the public in a constant state of panic about 'where the Torch might strike next' in the name of higher Nielsen ratings. Ben watched the news only on the off chance that one station actually stumbled across a clue to Johnny's whereabouts. The willingness and ability of some reporters to turn against Johnny with the same fervor and passion with which they had previously embraced the 'face of the Fantastic Four' disgusted Ben. _Not to mention the kid was gonna have kittens when he found out his fan club had its website yanked off the 'net…_

So, when the words 'Breaking News' flashed on the television screens, Ben stifled a grumble and paused to watch, just in case it was another yo-yo like the Mole Man or those bozo teenagers up to something that needed his attention. To his shock, the days of enduring the reporters yakkin' until his ears bled finally paid off: "_…missing for the past five days, the Human Torch had finally reappeared with a new career---in crime. What you're seeing is live pictures from Selva-Uitti Corporation's laboratories in New Jersey…"_

It was Johnny, all right, who else could the human-shaped flames be? He was still smiling that chilling grin he'd worn before burning the floor out from under Ben's feet. Construction engineers and workmen fled from the Torch's path while the camera bounced as the news crew attempted to get closer to the fight for a better shot---until Johnny tossed a warning stream of fire in their direction. Johnny then disappeared into one of the completed buildings. Meanwhile, the reporter, all bravado gone from her tone, added, "_Selva-Uitti Corporation, as you know, acquired most of Victor Von Doom's technologies and research in a hostile takeover six months ago. Perhaps it's not a coincidence that the Human Torch attacked this facility, it may be an indication that he's now under control of 'Doctor' Doom, and that could be very bad news indeed. So far, no one has been hurt, but---"_

Ben was already moving, hurdling over traffic and pedestrians with inhuman leaps and bounds, heading back to the Baxter Building as fast as he could go. He was grateful no one at Selva-Uitti had been injured---Johnny would hate himself if he hurt an innocent person when he was back in his right mind. He'd feel guilty for a month just for attacking his family. Ben knew that because he'd mentally kicked himself for longer than that after he'd allowed Victor to manipulate him into turning against Reed and giving up his powers as the Thing, an error which had almost allowed Doom to kill all of them. Since that day, Ben had feared another incident like that---or a situation like they were mired in now.

It was amazing how fast superheroes gained enemies. Ben had lost track of how many freaks and losers had come gunning for the Fantastic Four in the past few months. A straight-on fight never bothered the Thing. No, his concern was having one of these nutcases manipulating him or gaining control of him, using him again to hurt Reed, Susie, or Johnny. Worse, there was the subconscious fear that he might suffer some further mutation that would mentally regress him into a mindless (and powerful) monster, unable to control his own strength or actions. He feared how much damage either scenario could do to his family.

Well, now, here was one of those scenarios that Ben had feared…only it wasn't him in the hot seat (pardon the expression), it was Johnny who had some creep in control of his noggin. Of all the possible consequences that Reed had listed---Johnny hurting civilians, Johnny hurting one of the team, Victor getting Johnny to hurt himself---one was inescapable and troubling: They were going to have to fight the kid if they were going to get him out of Doom's control.

Ben almost went right through the roof of the SUV he was vaulting over as the knowledge that the fight against one of their own was imminent hit home. There were times, on a daily basis, when Ben felt like decking the little pain in the ass. Most of their bickering was over stupid stuff like playing c.d.s too loud, ownership of said c.d.s, or control over the television remote, not real fights where one of them might seriously intend to hurt or kill the other. Now that the moment was approaching, Ben still didn't have a clue what he would do if he had to choose between Johnny's life and the safety of an innocent person who might get caught in the crossfire.

Nope, nothing good came from too much time to think, and too much thinking wasn't going to change what the Fantastic Four had to do. For the past week, Ben instead had fallen back on his military training: _Focus on the job at hand, don't get distracted by 'what ifs' and doubts. Get distracted and things get screwed up. Things get screwed up and people get hurt._ Johnny was counting on them. They couldn't screw up. Getting the plane ready to fly was something tangible that Ben could do to help Johnny now, and he'd done it. Next on the 'to do' list was getting the team to Latveria (or wherever the kid was), pounding Doom into tin foil, dragging the Matchstick home, and letting Reed do his egg-head act to get Johnny back to normal.

_Never thought there'd be a day I'd be wishing for Johnny to be his normal self again,_ Ben mused.

He thumbed the communicator's switch: "Reed? Ya watching the news? Are we rollin' or what?"

The image on the tiny communicator screen might have been bizarre if Ben weren't used to living under the same roof as a genius/mad scientist. Reed was wearing that pack on his back. Since the first time Reed showed them the 'mega-extinguisher' (as Ben called it), it looked to Ben like something out of '_Ghostbusters_'…with the hose and nozzle of an industrial-sized fire extinguisher attached. The scientist was aiming the nozzle at a burning mannequin obviously meant to be a double for the Human Torch. Unnoticed, Ben watched while Reed fired at the mannequin. A blob of green gelatinous goop exploded from the nozzle and instantly doused the flames, in the process knocking the mannequin head over heels and sending it flying into a bookshelf. The recoil from the blast lifted Reed off his feet and he tumbled, landing sprawled like a turtle on its back. He had to rock back and forth a few times before he could finally roll to his feet.

"Nice gear---all ya need is a pair of khaki coveralls to complete the ensemble there, Spengler," Ben cracked.

Reed finally took notice of the fact that his communicator was beeping for his attention. He blinked quizzically at Ben's joke, baffled, "Who?"

"Ya gotta get out of the lab once in awhile, Reed. And ya might want to dial back the kick on that puppy. We want to get Johnny's attention, not take his head off," Ben suggested.

Undaunted, Reed retrieved the charred mannequin, noting with satisfaction that it was thoroughly saturated by the gel. That was good. They would only get one shot at Johnny---if the gel didn't cover him from head to toe in that first shot, it would be useless. "This retardant will douse anything that Johnny can throw at us, short of a full-force nova blast, and it won't come off unless he goes for a swim," he explained. "After that, we borrow a page from Doom and Dr. Sater---" He pulled three small vials from the pocket of his lab coat. Ben would have known what was inside even if Reed hadn't already explained his plans to him and Sue. _We inject him with the anesthetic. Theoretically it should work before his body burns it off._

Ben would have grimaced if he could. _Nothing inspired confidence like the word 'theoretically'. _"What if he novas before ya get that goo on him?"

"We hope Sue's nearby," Reed admitted. She was crucial if they were going to get Johnny onto the plane and into the titanium box for the flight home.

"And that'll work?" Ben was skeptical at best.

Reed didn't look as confident as he sounded when he replied, "That'll work. It has to." The only other way he could temporarily neutralize Johnny's powers was a blast of electricity, and Reed couldn't stomach that notion.

He heard it again, the faint hint of guilt behind his friend's words. Ben wasn't going to waste his breath on another go-around of trying to talk sense into Reed---as leader, he would continue to blame himself for this mess until they had Johnny home and back to his senses (well, as sensible as the kid got, at least), just as Susie would continue running herself into the ground working around the clock to prepare for the rescue.

Ben had been honest with Reed when he'd said that he knew Reed would find the way to----er, deprogram? Reprogram? There just wasn't a good word for it. Johnny wasn't a computer for cripes sake----pull of this 'counter-programming Johnny' stuff. If anyone could do it, Reed could…if he had what he needed to do the job. So, Ben had left the brooding over 'what ifs' and the debates over ethics to Sue and Reed and made it his personal business to make damn sure Reed had whatever person, gear, gadget, gizmo, device, doo-hickey, thingamabob, or magic wands he needed, starting with the plane…

…ending with dragging Nora Sater back to the Baxter Building by her broomstick if it came to that. Ben didn't enjoy picking on ladies, but after what she'd helped Doom do to the kid, Doc Sater didn't deserve the title of 'lady'. He was fully capable of dragging her to New York kicking and screaming if it came down to a choice between her comfort and Johnny's life.

"You'll get to test it soon. The kid just turned up at Selva-Uitti. It's all over the news. The plane's ready to go, all we gotta do is load up the box. I'm on my way back," Ben informed him. "You and Susie meet me in the hangar---where _is_ Susie anyway?"

Reed's jaw twitched a bit. "Where do you think?"

"Sue--?"

Reed didn't get to finish his question. As soon as he punched in the override code for the lock on their 'gym' (a section of the building specially equipped in deference to the team's individual powers to be a practice and exercise room) and poked his nose in the door, he had to duck to avoid an object sailing straight at him. Luckily, Reed could make himself very flat indeed when he had to, and he dropped to the floor just in time to avoid the collision.

_What the_---?

Something large flew over his head---a body!---and sent a familiar charge through the air. Reed knew that sensation: It was the energy from Sue's psychic shields.

When he dared open his eyes, still spread carpet-like across the tile in an undignified 'duck-and-cover' position, Reed saw Susan standing opposite him. She had been practicing, all right. She was breathing hard; sweat coated her face and matted her hair. The sight of his fiancé sweating and out-of-breath would have been quite sexy, if she were not wiping away that telltale drop of blood from her nose and Reed were not preoccupied with the strange event he'd just witnessed.

"What the---what was that?" Reed asked.

She played innocent. "What was what?" Sue fetched a bottle of water and towel from the shelf. She wiped the perspiration from her face and neck, avoiding Reed's eyes. She noticed the goo-saturated coveralls. "And you went a little overboard with the hair gel."

She made a point of ignoring the backpack, with its nozzle that too-closely resembled a gun, and the clips on its straps that would soon hold syringes with razor sharp needles. Reed had designed these things, in a very short span of time, to help them catch Johnny without hurting him, but they were still weapons.

"_It's not gonna hurt him, Susie." Ben had read her mind the first time Reed explained his plans for the anesthetics and the 'mega-extinguisher'. "These are just so ya don't give yourself a seizure tryin' ta keep the kid under wraps 'til we get him home…and so he doesn't barbeque us along the way. And we might save one of the shots for Doc Sater in case she don't feel like coming along voluntarily."_

Sue had never wanted to use weapons on anyone, least of all her family. Her fists tightened, fiercely wringing the towel.

"Sue, was that---were you _flying_?" Reed asked, incredulous. "How--?"

When the idea of using her force fields to lift herself into the sky first occurred to Sue, she hadn't mentioned it to any of the guys. For one thing, Johnny would have driven her nuts by nagging her to hone her new talent and goading her, in the best tradition of sibling rivalry, to see which of them could one-up the other in flight. For another thing, it was an extremely difficult skill to master, as she had discovered the first time she'd attempted it. It was a theory at the time. She'd lifted various objects and people with her psychic energy, so she might be able to lift herself as well.

The flying itself wasn't hard; it was when she was required to divide her concentration between keeping one shield beneath her feet and generating a second shield for defensive purposes that the problems (and the serious migraines) began. She had toyed with her new ability during her private workout sessions, with no particular compulsion to hurry it along---until Johnny's abduction.

Now, perfecting her flying skill was a matter of life and death. She knew it in her soul. She was glad now that she hadn't told anyone---especially Johnny---what she was up to. It would be one attack her brother wouldn't anticipate when she finally caught up with him. The sky had always been Johnny's advantage in practice bouts against the team. If Sue could stay aloft, the playing field would be leveled a bit. Besides, her little brother had never got the better of her in a fight when they were kids, and he wasn't going to get the better of her now, she'd vowed.

"We're not going to catch Johnny on the ground," Sue answered Reed. "If I'm going to bring him home, I have to catch him in the sky."

She was right, however her choice of words didn't go unnoticed, nor did the burden she was taking on her own shoulders. Reed sighed. They were all pushing themselves to prepare for this rescue, sacrificing sleep and meals to the effort, but none more than Sue. That was natural. Johnny was her brother. He'd been right: She was in Protective Big Sister mode, big time.

He had to remind her: "You're not fighting alone, Sue. You've got Ben and you've got me, remember us? We're going to bring Johnny back---together. I promise." He lifted her chin with his finger, smiling a bit, trying to lift her spirits.

"I know, Reed. I know." Sue returned the smile half-heartedly for his sake. He was trying to be reassuring. Considering she'd been on edge and snapping at everyone for the past five days, she loved him for the effort.

She knew Reed and Ben both cared about Johnny like family, and that they'd put their lives on the line for him without hesitation. This wasn't like when she and Johnny had lost their parents, when she was a frightened and grieving teenager suddenly responsible for the welfare of herself and her little brother. Even with her grandmother to help (before the burden became to much for the elderly woman and Sue had taken her brother with her when she went off to college), Sue had felt alone then. She wasn't alone this time.

Yet, she still felt like that scared teenage girl right now and no amount of combat preparation, reassuring promises, or intellectual knowledge was doing a damn thing to change that. Sue never got used to Johnny scaring her. Even before their accident and mutations, he never seemed to run out of ways to worry his sister: His obsession with muscle cars and motorcycles (owing to their father), his interest in every kind of extreme sport (owing to their mother), flight training, astronaut training---Sue always alternated between pride and fear for him. Johnny never gave a second (or first) thought to the dangers that went along with his passions. Sue did the worrying for him. After they lost their parents, Sue always feared that some kind of accident would take her brother away too, leaving her _really_ alone.

Even with Reed and Ben to help, Sue still knew instinctively that---just like when Johnny was a teenager sneaking out of the apartment in a snit over her 'playing mom' or was otherwise off getting into trouble---if any of them was going to wrangle her uncooperative brother home, it would fall to her. She was the one who was going to have to physically take him away from Victor. She was the only one who could.

Then Sue would have to face her deepest fear---what was going to happen when they had Johnny back. As painful as it was watching the torment Victor had subjected Johnny to in that box, having Johnny turn against them, having her brother stare at her like she was a stranger, was a million times worse. What if Reed couldn't reverse what Victor and that despicable Sater woman? What if his memories, his personality, were completely and utterly gone?

_Not an option_. Sue would not dwell on those possibilities. She had to be strong. Even when they were bickering children, driving each other nuts, Johnny had always been the one person Sue could count on to be there for her---in spite of his being a bit of a wild card---when she had no one else to turn to. He was counting on her now and she would not fail.

As she dropped the towel, she caught a glimpse of the metal gasket around her finger and the small diamond that had recently been added to the band, and felt a fleeting pang of sorrow. She was supposed to be finishing her wedding plans right now, not plotting the best way to retrieve her brother from a lunatic. _Damn Victor for all of this._

Sue channeled deep-rooted anger, fear, and frustration into action. She disc of psychic energy formed again beneath her feet and lifted her off the floor. The gym's computers tracked her movements and launched a volley of projectiles and laser blasts in her direction. The more projectiles that Sue deflected, the shorter the interval between the computer's shots.

Reed watched, impressed, at the ease with which she fended off the attacks. _Johnny's not going to know what hit him_. It was obvious that she hadn't been watching the news, or she would be down in the hangar, the first one ready to go. These days, the only one she hated more than Victor was the press, which had pried too much into the Storm family history to suit her. Carson Pierce had finally irritated the Invisible Woman to the point of retaliation with a nasty piece on her father's escape from prison. Sue had sneaked up on the reporter and thrown her invisibility shield around his body so that he appeared during his the rest of his broadcast as a disembodied talking head. Pierce hadn't darkened their doorstep since that incident, but rival news stations were having great fun passing around copies of the telecast.

"Sue---" Reed called up to her. She didn't so much as blink in response, concentrating on the barrage from the computer. "---we've found Johnny."

Whether it was the shocking news or the strain of splitting her attention between staying aloft and dodging fire became too much, the shield beneath her feet winked out abruptly and Sue once again fell. Reed stretched his arms and caught her easily before she hit the floor and set her gently on her feet.

Sue had only one question: "Where?"

There were some simple tasks that became complicated when one was a Human Torch. Bursting into flames made the life expectancy of any piece of clothing Johnny owned about two weeks, three at the most, not to mention it was almost impossible to do something as basic as carry a wallet, cash, credit cards, car keys, or cell phones if he wasn't extremely mindful not to turn on his flames before safely stowing such articles. He'd learned to turn off the flames on his hands during a battle to pick up objects or lift civilians out of harm's way, but forgot to keep them off when wearing wrist communicators or watches, so he'd given up wearing them altogether until Reed Richards had tried to devise a fireproof communicator out of titanium. It had survived the flames---and fallen right through Johnny's burning wrist. Still, Reed insisted Johnny carry it with him, no matter how many times the Human Torch tried to stash it in the Baxter Building before heading into a fight or lost it in the midst of a battle. It was going to take a little practice to learn how to stay solid enough for the wrist devices to stay on when he flamed.

However, today, Johnny needed both the titanium box and the small tracking device Doom had given him before he'd boarded the jet for the United States (contrary to how it looked on television, Johnny could not fly for unlimited distances without a break like Superman could). So, he'd taken great care after departing the plane, and even as he landed inside the perimeter of Selva-Uitti's facility, to protect the box and tracker he carried. The latter had been programmed with a special feature that Johnny knew was about to pay off big time.

From above, Johnny had memorized the layout of the grounds. The complex was being built along the Hudson River. At the bottom of a slight slope, two large, in-ground tanks not yet filled with water lay near the river's banks. Large pipes connected the tanks to the river. Workers were inside the empty tanks, putting the finishing touches on the three-story deep containers, the drains, and the gates that held back the river water in the pipes.

At the top of the slope, where Johnny stood, was the area where the laboratories and offices would one day stand. Only one building on the western end was up and running, the rest of the place was still under construction. Two more buildings were half finished, the roof of one comprised of solar panels that would one day power the facility. The other was the steel skeleton of a high-rise office building. Workers on the steel girders had stopped their work to gawk at the fallen hero's arrival. Large cranes and other construction equipment were spread out across the grounds. Johnny saw grates in the paved walkways, which revealed a network of connecting tunnels beneath the facility, running from the tanks to the unfinished buildings. The objects Doom had sent the Human Torch to retrieve would be found in the completed building, so that's where Johnny headed.

The media was on the scene almost before Johnny landed, and he wondered in passing how they'd known he was coming. _Probably doing a story on how the laboratory's going to release toxins and turn the river purple or something._ The proof that Johnny's change of employment had earned him pariah status back home could be found in the reporters' reaction to his arrival. Just last week, their favorite superhero would have had to hold them off with sticks to escape their attentions (not that he'd ever tried or _wanted_ to escape). Today, a single glance in their direction had caused some of the news crews to abandon their posts to flee. Others hid behind barrels and pieces of machinery, but pointed frantically in his direction, their eyes large and frightened, while they spoke into their cameras. _Sheesh, what did they think he was going to do to them?_ A few plucked up the nerve to shout questions at the Human Torch---while keeping a very healthy distance from him. He ignored them as he headed for the laboratory.

"Johnny, what happened at the Baxter Building?"

"You have a 'V' on your uniform. Are you working for Doctor Doom now?"

"Where have you been for the last five days?"

"Are you suing your dentist for negligence?"

"What do you think about your fan club website being pulled from the Net?"

_That_ gave Johnny a moment's pause, distracting him in the middle of unleashing a stream of fire to obliterate the generators—the only power source for the completed building. "What! When did _that_ happen?"

Any answer was drowned out as the gasoline powered generator exploded. The explosion sent most of the lingering reporters and employees running from the Human Torch. Two or three news crews still dared to point their cameras towards the action, but dared not approach Johnny again.

Descending into a sour mood at the afternoon's turn of events, Johnny headed for the laboratory. The security and fire suppression systems had been disabled by the absence of electricity to the building; He breezed past frightened employees and cowed guards (who had decided that no paycheck were worth being toasted by the Human Torch).

Once inside, it was pathetically easy, with the lab's alarms out of commission, to walk into the storage unit that housed the items Johnny had been sent to reclaim for Von Doom. It was a deep box. Johnny didn't dig through the box, that wasn't his job. He saw what looked like large round crystals lying in the metal box. What Doom could need them for was beyond Johnny, but he wasn't paid to ask questions. He placed the metal box twin rocks into the larger fireproof box he was lugging, and began to make his way out of the building, encountering no resistance at all until he was nearly to the main door.

One of the construction workers, shakily brandishing a fire extinguisher, intercepted the Human Torch at the door. The mustached man, 'Carlos' according to the patch sewn onto his shirt, glared at the former superhero with a mixture of fear, disgust, and outrage. Johnny didn't get a word of warning out before the worker sprayed him with thick foam, right in his face.

"Hey!" Reflexively, Johnny backed off a step in surprise, wiping the goop from his eyes. _Man, that gets old real fast._

Carlos snarled, "That reporter was right about you, pretty boy, you _have_ gone bad. And to think my son wasted his allowances buying your action figure."

Momentarily forgetting the foam and his rotten mood, Johnny perked up at that: "Which one? Not the old one with the grappling hook? I hate that one. They made me look like Adam Sandler. The new one is much better---"

The worker cut him off, "I don't care who you are; a thief's a thief. That's Mr. Selva's property you stole, so hand it over and walk out of here."

Johnny had a hard time deciding whether to be astounded or impressed by the man's nerve. "One: This is Mr. Von Doom's property, so no can do. Two: Mr. Selva's the thief, so let's be careful about tossing that word around. Three: I admire brass, but---"

Johnny flamed on suddenly, unhindered by the layer of foam. Carlos' eyes widened in terror as the heat radiating from the Human Torch became stifling and the light blinding, like staring into a living, breathing sun. The man's courage wavered, and Johnny finished it off by tossing a blast that was largely smoke (since he really wasn't trying to hurt the guy) Carlos' way.

"---Never threaten a Human Torch with a piece of crap fire extinguisher," Johnny finished.

Carlos dropped the extinguisher and ran away.

_Hope his kid still buys the new action figure_. Johnny made his way out the door without further challenge. _If this is the boss' idea of 'interesting', we need to have a long talk. _As if in answer, the communicator he'd carried so carefully beeped its expected warning. Johnny grinned. _That's more like it._

"Well, well, at the sound of the beep, it's either vitamin time…" The communicator had been designed to track one unique energy signature, one that Victor Von Doom had scanned and recorded to the computer in his office six months ago, during his first fight against the Fantastic Four: The psychic energy pattern generated by the Invisible Woman when she used her powers. According to the tracker, Sue was cloaked and right behind Johnny. "…or it's Susie."

Knowing Sue—and the rest of the team---was right there, Johnny's reaction was still a fraction of a second too slow. Attempting to take flight before his sister could trap him inside one of her force fields, he was caught unprepared when a blob of puke-green goo exploded out of thin air and doused him completely. The first volley spun Johnny around, knocking the wind out of him for a few seconds, almost knocked him off his feet altogether. A second shot hit him in the back, saturating his blue uniform with the slime. This time, the impact did send him tumbling to the ground, gasping for breath. He wiped at the stuff, but it stuck to him like glue. The vile green substance did what the flimsy fire extinguisher could not: It made it impossible for Johnny to flame on.

_I am in deep trouble._

Sue dropped the cloak concealing her, Ben Grimm, and Reed Richards. Johnny didn't have the chance to even twitch before the Thing advanced on him, pulled him to his feet, and caught the Human Torch in his unshakeable grip.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story._

**5**

Reed put himself between Johnny and the exhausted Sue, prepared to fire another wave of retardant at the younger man if necessary. The Human Torch was still held fast, upper arms pinned at his side by Ben's grip. The younger man's lips curled into a sneer devoid of any warmth, friendliness, or even the faintest happiness to see his family again. He could see nervousness, and maybe some fear, in both Reed and Sue's eyes. Nervousness about fighting him? Johnny wondered. That would do nicely. Johnny wasn't the slightest bit hesitant. He'd been eager for this fight.

Johnny spied the backpack contraption Mr. Fantastic wore over his blue uniform; it was the obvious source of the gel that now hampered him. "Nice gear there, Spengler."

Ben couldn't resist saying, "Told ya."

Reed made a face at Ben's amusement, but kept his undivided attention on Johnny. He could see Johnny had used that moment's distraction to try to flame again, and again the gel had impeded his effort. Reed was certain the gel would work until it was dissolved by water, but not certain to wait and find out. They had to move fast. He reached for one of the small syringes of anesthetic clipped to the strap of the backpack.

Johnny could not use his powers. He tried increasing his body heat to dry up the goop to no avail. He couldn't move his hands to push back his sleeves to expose skin that was free of the gel and might flame, nor could he squirm free of the Thing's solid grip. _How can Pebbles hang on with this slime Reed dumped on me?_ When he tried slipping out of Ben's hold, he heard the Thing gloat: "Save it, Sparky, ya ain't gonna generate enough heat to toast a marshmallow while ya got that goop on ya. I know ya don't know any better, since Doom scrambled yer brain, but we're still on your side, kid."

The words stoked fury, hot as the flames he could generate, from somewhere deep within Johnny's soul. "Like you were on my side when you helped N.A.S.A. hand me my walking papers, Ben? When you told the big wigs I was 'unreliable'? That I had no self-control? Pretty funny getting temper lectures from the future Mr. 'It's Clobberin' Time'."

The words had the sting Johnny had hoped for: Ben paused, just for a millisecond, and when his guard was down, the Human Torch nearly broke free. Ben recovered quickly, and his hold and Johnny's arms became impossibly stronger.

Johnny saw Reed coming at him with a syringe in hand and knew what the scientist intended. Typical Reed, Sue, and Ben---they couldn't show the slightest bit of respect for Johnny's choices. No, they were going to knock him out and drag him back to the Baxter Building like some disobedient child. Johnny could fight them, but three against one were bad odds.

_Divide and conquer._

Sue was standing close at hand, ready to net Johnny within a force field if he should slip away from Ben. She tried distracting her brother from Reed. "You know that's a lie. Victor wants you to kill us. He put that anger in your mind when he had you in that box, he used that box to brainwash you. He made you attack us, just like he's making you do his dirty work now. It took us some time, but we know how he did it. We can help undo it…"

She read it in the blank look her brother gave her in response: Johnny didn't remember the box or anything that had happened in it. He didn't know what Doom had done to him.

Johnny forgot his struggle to escape Ben's grip, almost laughing at the sheer lunacy of Sue's words. _Was she kidding with that stuff?_ "Sorry, Susie, it's all my own idea."

"Yer gonna have to trust us, Matchstick. We're taking ya home," Ben growled. He nodded to Reed that he had a firm hold on the Human Torch. Reed would have to douse Johnny's arm with the gel before he could inject him.

The Human Torch scowled at Ben's words.

"_All skill and no sensibility will not get you far while you're my responsibility. I stuck my neck out for you, Storm. You get yourself killed, that's your problem. You get your crew killed, that's _my_ mistake because I put you on that shuttle in the first place. I don't need mavericks, show-offs, or fools under my command, on my ship, or on my team, and, junior, some days you are all three."_

"_Grimm was your C.O., he had a say in the decision to throw you out. You have to know that. At the least, he had the power to speak in your defense. Come on, Johnny, tell me the truth, you must be a little angry with him."_

"_He didn't let emotional impurities like friendship and loyalty get in the way."_

The sudden blaze of fire in Johnny's eyes alerted Reed that he was up to something, but even Mr. Fantastic couldn't have anticipated the Torch's attack.

"Trust you? Why? You never trust me. I do everything you guys tell me to do, just like I did everything you told me to do back at N.A.S.A., Pebbles, and all I get for it is screwed over. I think I'm gonna stick with my own plan this time."

When Reed took hold of the younger man's wrist, holding his arm out to douse with the retardant gel, Johnny lunged as if to break away from Ben and attack Reed. Johnny knew he couldn't pull free; that wasn't his goal. When Human Torch unexpectedly shifted his weight, Reed struggled to keep hold of his wrist---in the process, Johnny yanked his arm back and suddenly his former leader had a handful of nothing but goo-soaked glove. In the blink of an eye, so fast that Sue barely got her shield up in time, Johnny hurled a stream of fire at his sister and Reed, driving them back just a few steps.

Before they recovered, Johnny found his next target: He put every bit of heat he could muster (which was quite a bit) and focused it on the steel girders of the high-rise building under construction nearby. The workers who hadn't fled were trapped as the steel buckled and began to collapse. The Invisible Woman, still reeling from Johnny's first salvo of fire, reacted at once to the civilians' plight and focused her shield on holding the structure upright while they moved quickly for the elevators. One tripped and fell, and Sue split her concentration between holding up the heavy building and catching the man before the five-story plunge killed him. Johnny had almost killed innocent people, Sue realized, stunned. _No, not Johnny. This wasn't his doing---it was Doom's._

Johnny's ungloved hand clamped on to Ben's arm. The Thing grunted: "Ya ain't gonna hurt me before Reed knocks ya out, so don't bo----"

Ben was silenced, mid-sentence.

His rocky skin was impervious to all but the most extreme ravages of heat and cold, but warm blood still coursed through his veins beneath that thick hide. He could perceive the heat from Johnny's nova blasts and he might be burned by prolonged exposure to Johnny's flames (if, for instance, Johnny forgot to turn off the flames on his hands when he carried the Thing during a battle). Cold had become an unfamiliar sensation to Ben---and it was the last sensation he expected from contact with the bare hands of the Human Torch. Ben could only gasp in shock as the heat went out of him, absorbed by Johnny, and cold penetrated his thick skin and enveloped his entire being like a blast of Arctic air would affect an average person. His body felt like a Popsicle; He couldn't move, he couldn't blink, and he couldn't open his mouth to warn Reed or Sue.

Reed, however, knew at once that something was wrong, and he quickly deduced what Johnny had done (however impossible or unexpected) by the way Ben's orange skin turned a pale shade of blue-tan and his breath crystallized in the warm late afternoon air.

There was no time to react. In the split-second that it took for Reed to figure out what Johnny had done and prepare to spray his hand with the gel, the Torch spun himself---and the immobilized Ben---and put the Thing between himself and Reed and the syringe in Reed's hand. The shot of gel splattered onto Ben's back, and the needle connected with his stone skin and instantly broke. Johnny tried again to flame, and again the crud covering his skin and uniform extinguished his flames. _What the hell is this crap_! he cursed it.

Trapped in the frozen Thing's hold, with Reed advancing on him with a fresh syringe of knockout juice, Johnny had only one avenue of escape. Spinning himself and Ben to face Reed once more, Johnny's kicked against Mr. Fantastic's chest, using him like a trampoline to push off. The motion toppled the immobile Ben. He fell backwards and slid down the hillside like a toboggan, dragging the Human Torch along with him as he glided towards the river and water tanks. Johnny rolled a bit and managed to control the slide so that their plunge came to a stop a few feet above of the empty tanks. Ben impacted with a parked forklift, which jostled him so that his grip slackened and Johnny was able to squirm free.

His freedom was short-lived. Able to cover the distance between them in two steps thanks to his ability to stretch his legs, Reed caught up to Johnny almost instantly. Reed swung his left arm like a lasso; it coiled around the younger man's torso and pinned his arms more firmly than Ben had. His right hand, the one grasping the second syringe, snaked towards Johnny's exposed neck.

Reed hoped there was still some part of the younger man's mind that had resisted Sater and Doom's influence, some part of him that could still be reasoned with, that was still the real Johnny. "Sue and Ben are telling you the truth, Johnny. Doom had his scientists create a program that implants subliminal suggestions through light and sound. It's like hypnosis—you wouldn't remember the box or being Doom's prisoner, but you were. Doom and Dr. Sater used that program to turn you against us and make you obey him…"

He had been talking just to distract Johnny, to forestall another attack long enough to inject him with the anesthetic. He expected more derisive comments and denials from the younger man, but, instead, Reed saw Johnny startle---just a little bit---at the mention of Dr. Sater. _In recognition_? Reed wondered. "You know Dr. Sater, don't you, Johnny? Maybe you recognize the name from when she abducted you from your dentist's office? She called herself 'Dr. Reinhardt' when she introduced herself to you. Victor called her Reinhardt to throw me off her trail."

_"Where's Dr. Morris?"_

_"He had an unexpected emergency. I'm Dr. Reinhardt. Don't worry, Mr. Storm, you're in good hands. Very good hands…"_

_The memory was a snippet; the woman who spoke was a faceless shadow as she leaned between him and the glare of the lamp pointed at him. There was a needle in her hand, too, when she approached the man in the dentist's chair… _

_"I'm a Behavior Modification Therapist, not a Freudian."_

That moment of confusion, of vulnerability, lasted only an instant, but it had been real. Reed had broken through Sater's programming for a second. The second was over before he could inject the Human Torch, and Johnny's face became a mask as cold and steely as Doom's. "Wow, now that sounds like a bad comic book plot, Stretch. Nobody makes me do anything. Ever think maybe I'm just tired of you and Susie and the Rock treating me like some dumb kid? Ever think maybe I just want to work with someone who's not afraid of what we can do with these powers?"

He couldn't move his arms or bring his hands up to flash-freeze Reed like he did Ben, but he still had one hand free of the gel retardant. _Rubber melts as good as it freezes…_ Johnny gathered all his energy one more time for a blast that would light up his former leader like a Roman candle.

"He may have programmed you to think he's some kind of benevolent mentor, Johnny, but Doom's a murderer. You know that. He'll make you use your powers to become one, too, if you don't listen to me---you almost killed those men just now," Reed indicated the steel girders which Sue still struggled to keep from toppling onto the construction workers. "Is that what you want?"

Johnny's hand smoldered beneath the gel as the younger man gathering his energy for another blast. With Sue still occupied with the collapsing tower and Ben out-of-commission, Reed would have to try to dodge the shot---he would _not_ let Johnny go. He tried again to break through Sater and Doom's lies. "Do you want to do that, son?"

"_Johnny, do you trust me, son?"_

Again, Johnny faltered. Reed could see it.

"_Prisoner 34789—Storm, Jonathan S., it's your lucky day: You don't have to eat what the State Corrections System feeds its residents. Your old man helped us find the guy who really jacked that car. The charges have been dropped."_

_"That's not my dad, that's my sister's geek ex-boyfriend."_

_"You wouldn't remember the box or being Doom's prisoner, but you were. Doom and Dr. Sater used that program to turn you against us and make you obey him."_

The gathering energy abated momentarily. Once more, uncertainty filled Johnny's eyes.

Once more, Dr. Sater's programming prevailed.

"_Are you that desperate for a father figure, Johnny?"_

"_Always picking the wrong father figures, the wrong mentors…always disappointed."_

"_You never trust me."_

Johnny's anger flared anew, overriding the indecision, and his ice-cold expression was back. He turned to his former leader wearing the same homicidal smile he'd worn before destroying the Baxter Building. The Human Torch's hand burst into flames, and Reed plunged the syringe into Johnny's neck a heartbeat before the fireball slammed into him. Johnny had not held back his powers—the heat of the blast was searing; Reed raised his right arm to shield himself from its intensity. Still, Reed did not let go.

"Suddenly you feel like playing Dad or Big Brother, Reed?" Johnny snapped. "I remember you leaving skid marks on Sue's driveway, so don't hand me that paternal-fraternal garbage now." He staggered a bit, already feeling the effects of the drug. His knees threatened to buckle beneath him. He raised his body temperature, trying to burn it out of his blood before it took him down. He had to get away, get the slime off himself.

"I'm trying to help you----" Reed said. He took a step towards the unsteady Johnny, but the Human Torch dazedly unleashed another spray of fire to warn Reed off.

"Tell you what, Stretch, why don't you help yourself---or better yet, why don't you worry about helping Pebbles?"

Johnny rallied, still fighting the sedative, and kicked with all his mutation-enhanced strength at the inert Ben, who still lay where he'd landed at the bottom of the slope. The blow propelled Ben the rest of the way down the hill before Reed could stop him. Ben gained speed as he slid the short distance, and his momentum carried him crashing through a section of fencing around the perimeter of the empty tank and he fell. Workers inside the tank ran as the massive Thing hit the bottom of the tank.

The crash-landing didn't so much as scratch Ben, but the tank's walls cracked and the gate holding back the river water buckled and bent. The pressure of the water, combined with a second shot of heat and fire from Johnny, sent the damaged gate flying and the river began to pour into the tank. Some of the construction crew hurried to the tank's one ladder, the only escape route, but a few who recognized the Thing stayed behind. They tried in vain to hoist the frozen superhero from the rising water. He was just too heavy for them to lift.

"Ben!" Reed shouted.

"Your choice, Reed—hang on to me or help Tons of Fun down there. Stone men are sturdy, but they can still drown," Johnny taunted, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Reed was torn. There wasn't time for every worker in the tank to scale that tall ladder, and he couldn't lift Ben and all of those workers out of the tank with just one arm, not before the water engulfed them. He shouted for Susan, but guessed she was still occupied with the tower. She wouldn't break her concentration to answer him while lives were in danger.

Johnny sent another searing stream of fire Reed's way. Distracted by Ben and the workers, the blast slackened Reed's grip on Johnny, and the boy pulled free. The Human Torch was moving slowly and shakily, Reed saw. He wouldn't get far.

Shrugging off the cumbersome backpack, Mr. Fantastic moved to help Ben and the construction crew.

Stumbling and fighting the drug Reed had given him all the way, Johnny made it to the river and dove in, desperate to rid himself of the gel. As he'd hoped, the slime dissolved upon contact with the water, leaving only a thin layer of powder. _That solved one problem_. Weakly, dripping wet, summoning his adrenaline, he climbed out of the river and slumped on its bank. He concentrated again on raising his body temperature as high as it could go without a supernova. The water sizzled on his burning hot skin and evaporated quickly. The drug in his veins was vaporized. The powdery residue of the retardant was incinerated.

Still, he lay there on the shore for a minute longer, watching the movement of his flames, waiting and trying not to lose consciousness until the effects of the drug began to wear off…

…and only the deep-seeded anger remained.

His flesh turned to fire.

Mr. Fantastic stretched down into the tank, grabbed Ben, and hoisted his friend from the tank. Reed set his friend gently on the safety of the higher ground. The water still would overtake some of the crewmen before they could climb out. Taking a firm grip on the railing that surrounded the tank for support, Reed molded his pliable form to become a conduit and diverted the water up over the side of the tank, where it ran down the hill back into the river. This slowed the rise of the water, but did not stop it. Water began to seep from the fractures in the tank. The pipes must have been cracked under the force when Ben hit the concrete. There was a drain at the bottom of the tank, but it was bolted and locked and there was no power to the computer system that would ordinarily open the drain (even if it that system had been completed, which it wasn't). Ben could have pried it open, but Reed could not. He urged the fleeing workers to hurry.

Halfway up the ladder, the crew's foreman stopped and stared at something above the tank. He pointed and shouted something unintelligible with the noise of voices and river water. As the man gestured wildly, a large, dark shape plummeted over the side of the tank and hit the water with a massive splash. Reed caught a glimpse of hard orange skin sinking to the bottom of the tank.

_Ben! How---?_ Reed dared not stop what he was doing or everyone in the tank was doomed. It was the foreman who dove from the ladder into the rising water. Three more workers followed him down.

Reed glanced up and found himself blinded by the fire emanating from Johnny. He spread his arms and trails of flames encircled the tank in a ring of fire, dashing any last hope of escape for those inside. Reed directed the spray of water towards Johnny, but his flames were too hot, almost nova-strength, and the deluge only turned to steam in such heat. The Human Torch's glare was merciless.

The four workers broke the surface of the depths, combining their strength to stay afloat and pull Ben's head above the water. Johnny watched this and the glare became that now-familiar, terrible smile. Reed knew full well his intention. All he needed to do was melt one more of the floodgates, make one more crack in the walls of the tank, and Ben (along with the workers) would drown before they knew what had happened. Johnny was already raising his hand to deliver the fatal blow.

The Human Torch was going to kill them.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story._

**6**

Reed couldn't prevent Johnny from taking his shot, but maybe he could buy the innocent people trapped with him a few more seconds of life. He tested what he'd observed only minutes ago, appealing to the human inferno: "Johnny, you don't want to kill us, son. Doom wants you to."

_There it was again_! There was no mistaking the lapse as Johnny's will over-powered Sater's programming and momentarily made him stay his teammates' executions.

It was during that instant of hesitation that Sue Storm rejoined the fight. He'd dropped the box and the tracker Doom had supplied when the fight began. She had come up from behind him without warning, and her psychic-shield energy took her brother by surprise. It knocked him away from the tank, taking his attention off Reed and Ben, and contained him and his fire within her force field. Reed took the opportunity to use the river water to douse the ring of flames Johnny had created, giving the bystanders one more chance to get away.

Sue's concentration was on her brother. This was the moment she'd been anticipating and dreading for five days, but, even though her heart was pounding painfully, she kept in check the emotions that had plagued her since the instant Doom had trapped Johnny in that box. She did not think of every awful moment that had happened since then, and she didn't think about what she was going to have to do after this fight, if she survived (and she had to survive). She couldn't afford such distractions right now.

Johnny barely stumbled as her shield struck him. She had held back her powers, wanting only to drive him away from the tank, not to hurt him. He regained his balance without falling and faced Sue with an expression devoid of any trace of familiarity or affection. The malevolence of his stare made gooseflesh rise on her skin.

"You know, sis, somehow I'm sensing that you all aren't on board with my change of careers," Johnny joked without a whit of humor in his tone. As he spoke, his flames burned hotter.

Sue increased the strength of the shield in response. "You're not evil, Johnny. You don't understand what's happened to you---you're Victor's prisoner and you don't know it. You have to come back with us, please. Let us help you."

"Still playing mom, big sister? 'Cause it's getting old."

The intensity of his fire was increasing with each passing second, building to a supernova. Sue strained and felt the dripping of blood on her lip. It was a dangerous game of chicken, testing whether Johnny could survive his own nova powers long enough to break Sue's concentration or if she would lose her grip (or give herself a seizure trying to hold him). Neither sibling would back down.

"I'm---worried about---you, Johnny," Sue grunted out the words as she struggled against the onslaught of the heat and energy he generated.

"That's crap, Susie. So 'worried' you let me leave without coming after me? No calls? No e-mails? No text messages? If you were so worried, why the freeze out? And by the way, who the hell shut down my fan club!"

"That's not true, Johnny. We've been trying to find you since you disappeared! I would never---"

Johnny's flames grew impossibly hotter as his fury burned just as white-hot. Pain lanced through his body in protest of the abuse, but he ignored the pain.

Sue did not back down, despite the pain searing through her skull like a knife. She gritted her teeth and held fast. "I'm not---letting you go---you---need us."

"I don't need any of you."

She knew the words came from Victor and Sater's manipulations, not from her brother, but still that simple statement stung her. She closed her mind and her emotions to the cutting words, to the pain of maintaining her force field, to everything except keeping Johnny there. She knew she wasn't going to be able to hold him long enough to reach the plane and the titanium box waiting inside. _Reed, Ben, what's taking so long? Where are you?_

From his vantage point, stretched above the tank to divert the water, Reed saw Sue grappling with Johnny, whose flames were so intense they were almost white. The first workers to escape from the tank had returned with large wrenches and set to work to manually close the broken pipes. He could not move until they were finished with their task, but he wracked his brain for a way to help Sue. The river water was useless, he already knew that much. The pack with the gel retardant lay beneath the water at the bottom of the tank, where it had fallen when Reed stretched over the railing and the gel would be evaporated just as quickly now that Johnny had flamed. He could have reached the other syringe, but it would be just as ineffective. Worse, he could see that Sue was tiring rapidly in the onslaught.

"Sue—the river!" he shouted to her.

In answer, she pushed with her mind, with her last ounce of strength, and the shield surrounding Johnny lifted him into the air and catapulted the Human Torch back into the cold waters of the Hudson. She did not remove her shield until he was underwater. When she did, the water around him flash-boiled, sending a massive cloud of steam into the air.

Sue moved towards the river, but stumbled and sagged to her knees, exhausted, wiping at the blood on her face. Her head felt split in half from the mental exertion.

Not far away, the crew finally wrestled shut the pipe's emergency valve, stemming the flow of water. Reed gratefully reached down and took Ben's bulky form from the men who had labored to keep the Thing from drowning during the fight and set him back on the paved walkway near Susan. Mr. Fantastic nodded his gratitude to the crewmen, and they clapped in thanks as they climbed out of the tank.

Keeping one eye on the river, Reed hurried to Sue and helped her to her feet. "Are you all right?" he asked her.

Drained, frustrated, she leaned on him for support until she caught her breath. Her strength was returning quickly. She blinked at the pale-orange lump lying nearby. "Is Ben all right? What did Johnny do to him?" Sue moved kneel beside her friend, checking to be sure he was breathing still.

Reed crouched beside Ben, also checking his condition. "I think Johnny absorbed Ben's body heat. It caused hypothermia. A little colder and he could have sent Ben into hypothermic shock…or stopped his heart." It was hard to imagine that a man formed almost entirely of cold, unyielding stone still had warm blood coursing through his stone veins. Ben needed some body heat to survive just the same as any other human. Reed frowned, "Victor's been teaching Johnny some nasty tricks."

On cue, the Human Torch once again made his presence known. Fast as streaks of lightning, twin trails of fire snaked up the riverbank, across the pavement, and encircled Reed, Sue, and the unconscious Ben. Sue put a dome of energy over them as the two trails erupted into a solid wall of flames that surrounded and trapped the trio.

"Reed?" Sue asked for a suggestion as she fought to hold back the whirlwind of fire around them.

Reed already had an idea. He only hoped the frozen Ben would forgive the indignity he was about to suffer in the name of saving their lives. Reed stretched his arms, hefting the Thing like a giant hammer, and battered at the concrete beneath their feet. As it began to crack and buckle, Reed found what he'd hoped for---one of the many access tunnels that snaked beneath the Selva-Uitti facility. He dropped Ben into the tunnel and followed him down while Sue kept her shield in place to cover their escape. Once inside the meager safety of the concrete tunnel, Reed shouted for Sue to follow.

The Invisible Woman had other plans. She glanced down at Reed and her eyes expressed her intentions even before she said: "I'm not finished yet."

Before he could react, a second shield—a disk of psychic energy---formed beneath Sue's feet. It covered the hole in the pavement that Reed had created, keeping him at bay as it lifted her slowly into the air. There was no time to stop her; Reed had to hurry to move himself and the immobile Ben deeper into the tunnels as the barrier holding back the flames disappeared upon Sue's departure. The shimmering shield pushed dirt and broken concrete to cover the hole and temporarily protect the two men in the tunnel from the flames, and then Sue was gone.

_Damn, she could be as stubborn as her brother when she wanted to be_, Reed swore silently.

Sue ignored Reed's muffled shouts. Her attention was on the fiery figure below. She went invisible while the psychic disk lifted her like a phoenix from the firestorm. Johnny, however, had seen the parting of the flames as she rose out of the inferno and knew what his sister was up to. _Sue was flying!_ Johnny marveled for just a moment. So, she'd learned some new tricks of her own since he'd left the team. _Pretty slick move there, Sis._

_But not good enough._

Johnny sent a steady stream of fire her way. The flames wrapped around her shields, perfectly tracking her movements despite her invisibility. The exertion was taxing both siblings; neither could keep up this level of power for much longer and neither was prepared to back down. Sue came right at Johnny, and he leaped into the sky, sailing upwards before she could put another force field around him.

He circled around, gaining speed, and met her head-on, unleashing a barrage of fire as he approached. With every bit of concentration she possessed, Sue managed to keep herself aloft while deflecting his shots. Closing the gap between them in the blink of an eye, Johnny slammed into her shield with all the strength and speed he possessed. The violent collision shattered Sue's concentration and knocked both super-humans out of the sky. Johnny's flames died as the crash stunned him for a few seconds.

Every muscle in her body ached and her head was spinning, but Sue forced herself to climb on to her hands and knees, to concentrate. Containing Johnny wasn't going to work, and he was already recovering from the fall. She had to knock him out. _Syringe._ She had hidden one in her right boot, an emergency backup if Reed's plan didn't work. She hurriedly fumbled for the small box and the vile inside…but Johnny was on her too fast. He caught Sue in a tackle from behind and they rolled, grappling, until Johnny hooked his arm around her neck.

Sue could have pried him away with her force field, at the risk of hurting him, but instead she called on her last ounces of strength and trapped both of them within a bubble of psychic energy. She was trying to keep Johnny there, buy time for Reed to catch up, or time to use the syringe still clutched in her hand---to do anything. It was getting harder to think with Johnny almost cutting off her air supply with the chokehold he had on her. The heat and loss of air was stifling, and Sue wondered if this was how Johnny had felt during those last few minutes in Doom's box.

As soon as he saw the shield form around him, trapping him, Johnny's body began to heat up. He hung on to Sue with one arm; his free hand flared, the fire burning off the oxygen inside the small bubble of energy. The rage he felt exhorted him to kill her now and be done with it. Just flaming on would get the job done.

"_I want you and Susie to look out for each other until I come home." _

"Love is an impurity…" 

"_If you don't master it, love will get you killed."_

Johnny had the urge to scream aloud. He might even have done so; he couldn't be sure with the voices in his head and din of his suddenly thundering heartbeat deafening him. He raised his hands, and the flames flickered inches from Sue's face. "I'm fire-proof, Sue. You're not," he warned her. "One way or another, I'm getting out of this shield. Get the picture?"

They were awful words to hear from her own brother. She was glad he couldn't see her eyes at that moment, couldn't see how the words had hit their mark. She was almost willing to burn or suffocate before giving up…especially if her brother was so irretrievably lost to Doom's control that he could burn her alive. She didn't believe Johnny would do it. He'd already faltered when he could have killed them. But, she had to know for sure. "One way or another," she choked out, "I'm getting my brother back---get the picture?"

Ever so slowly, Sue inched the syringe towards Johnny's leg and prayed he didn't notice what she was doing.

"_You're my brother. None of those creeps mattered more than you."_

"_Love you, too, Susie."_

"_Doom's a murderer."_

"_He'll make you become one, too."_

Seconds ticked by, an eternity during which Sue held her breath (not entirely of her own volition) while waiting to see what Johnny would do, and Johnny still considered carrying out his threat. The impulse to kill was almost too powerful to resist.

"_Take care of your sister for me, son."_

"_Mom and Dad are gone, Johnny. We have to watch out for each other now. No one's splitting us up, I promise."_

Then, Johnny spied the needle half-hidden by Sue's hand…only an instant before she could jam it into his leg. He snatched at her wrist. She flinched in anticipation of the inevitable burn, but Johnny doused his hand at the last possible second. He bent her arm downward, forcing the needle into Sue's thigh.

Darkness came upon Sue so quickly that she had no time to wonder if Johnny would kill her while she was unconscious. She felt despair at failing after all the agonizing days of uncertainty and searching and preparation. Then, she felt nothing.

After the Invisible Woman lost consciousness, her shield dissipated, setting Johnny free. He released Sue and stared at his unconscious sister for a long while. The need, like a voice in his head, was still burning within him to kill her, to see if Reed and Ben had survived the inferno and, if so, to kill them too.

"_You're a prisoner and you don't know it."_

_"Sater called herself 'Dr. Reinhardt'."_

_"Victor's programmed you to think he's some benevolent mentor."_

_"Sue needs her brother, therefore she puts his welfare ahead of her own welfare. Need is an impurity, a vulnerability. " _

_"I hired you, Johnny, because I saw the possibilities of all that you could be." _

_"Let go of the past and the emotional frailties it crippled you with and re-forge yourself."_

Johnny closed his eyes and clamped his hands over his ears as if that could quell the confusion, the rage, and the voices assaulting him with conflicting impulses.

When the urges abated and the railing voices fell silent, he became aware of an odd sound. The noise was like white noise, and it was coming from the titanium box he'd discarded during the fight, the box with the precious items he'd been sent to retrieve. Johnny slowly backed away from Sue and went to recover the box.

The tracker was buzzing for his attention. As soon as Johnny opened the container and picked up the device, a pulse of light from its screen blinded him. The light and crackle of white noise, and the subliminal commands they carried, filled his senses and drowned out the rest of the world.

Doom's voice came from somewhere within the cacophony of light and sound: "That's enough, Johnny. You're too valuable to lose. Come back. Now."

Automatically, the Human Torch obeyed. Johnny didn't wonder how Doom had known. Had he been in the condition to wonder, he would have realized that the few reporters who had not fled were still pointing their cameras in his direction, obviously broadcasting the entire fight live to the world. He would have known it was being televised by satellite and that Doom had patched in to watch.

However, Johnny was not programmed to wonder about such things. By the time the glare from the screen and the static noises had faded away, any questions that Reed or Sue had placed in his mind about Victor Von Doom or Nora Sater (or Dr. Reinhardt or whatever she had called herself), any confusion, psychological conflicts, or notions of brainwashing had died with the light and sound.

He closed the box that held his employer's property, clutched it in one hand, and summoned his flames. Swiftly, before Reed or Ben appeared to try to stop him again, Johnny glided into the sky and headed back to the airport and the jet waiting to carry him back to Latveria.

Not far away, waiting in the empty lot where Ben had landed the plane, the Warbird's computers detected the heat signature of the Human Torch. It locked onto the energy pattern and carefully tracked its movements long after the private jet carrying Johnny Storm had lifted off and set itself on a course for Latveria.

Sue was wretched from the blackness of unconsciousness to the hum and vibration of engines. She knew the sound: Airplane engines. _What happened? Where was she?_ Then it came back to her—Selva-Uitti, the fights, and fire. Her leg felt bruised where Johnny had driven the needle into her thigh. _Johnny, where was he?_

An arm was beneath her shoulders, helping her as she groggily pushed herself into a sitting position and supporting her when the abrupt motion made her head spin from dizziness. She had been lying on a thinly padded fold-down cot. That vile titanium box was secured in the cargo bay close by. Bunks. Vibration. Engine noises. That box. She was back on the Warbird.

"Sue, you're all right." Reed's voice lacked the conviction of his reassuring words. He'd nearly had a heart attack after he'd climbed out of the tunnels and found her lying motionless on the scorched earth of the riverbank. Even finding her pulse and seeing the used syringe of anesthetic hadn't released Reed's racing heart from its cold grip of fear at seeing her looking so pale, almost pale as death.

This had gone too far. Sue had almost died. Ben had almost died. Reed had to remind himself that their brush with death at the hands of their own teammate, their family, was not his fault---nor was it Johnny's fault---it was Victor who had caused this horrible mess. _If he had lost Sue…_ "Don't get up too fast. You're blood pressure is still low. Give that drug time to wear off," he cautioned her.

"Reed--?" she croaked out the words. Sue gazed blearily at him. She tried to answer, but her throat was dry and her mouth cottony and her head throbbed painfully. It felt like she had the world's worst hangover. Reed handed her a bottle of water, which she gratefully accepted. It helped with the dry throat at least. "Where's Ben? What happened to Johnny--?"

She finally spotted Ben. Reed had laid him on another fold-down bunk and buried him beneath heating blankets.

"He'll be fine," Reed promised. There wasn't much else Reed could do for his friend besides pile on the blankets and let Ben's body heal itself of the hypothermia. To Reed's relief, Ben's temperature had markedly improved in the past hour. He would probably wake before they reached Latveria. "The computer got a lock on Johnny's energy pattern. We can follow him back to wherever Doom's been hiding him in Latveria. We were lucky Dr. Sater's programming was flawed or Johnny would have kept fighting until he killed us."

_Why had Doom sent Johnny to Selva-Uitti in the first place? _The question bothered Reed. Doom had to know that they would see Johnny there and that they would come after him. It couldn't have only been a trap, with Johnny luring them in order to kill them. Johnny had taken something from the laboratory. He'd contacted Selva-Uitti from the Warbird while waiting for Sue and Ben to regain consciousness. After getting the runaround from some of the company bureaucrats, a helpful soul had finally tracked down the missing items as meteorites. _Meteorites mined from Latveria and formerly the property of Von Doom Industries._ Why were space rocks important that Doom would risk sending Johnny to fetch them back?

Sue was shaking her head at Reed's remark. "Johnny probably thought you and Ben were incinerated in that last attack. He couldn't have seen you get into the tunnels through that wall of flames." Busy fighting Sue, he wouldn't have noticed the pile of broken cement and dirt she'd used to hide their escape. "Just like he thought he killed us with that explosion at the Baxter Building. Dr. Sater's program is working just fine." This was how it would be every time they tried to rescue Johnny---a fight to the death, courtesy of Sater's post-hypnotic commands---until that witch reversed her spell.

"Then why didn't he kill you when he had the chance?" Reed held on to the hope that somehow, something had corrupted Sater's programming, just a little bit perhaps. Something had caused Johnny to hold back for those nanoseconds during the battle. Reed had seen him hesitate. Something had made him spare Sue (thank God).

If there was no hope that there was some flaw in the program, a weakness Reed could exploit to counter its effect, then their only chance of getting Johnny back was to gain Dr. Sater's help. As soon as they reached Latveria, Reed's first order of business was to make damn sure he got that help from her.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Fantastic Four. Stan Lee and 20th Century Fox and Marvel Comics and a bunch of other people do. If you haven't read 'Oxygen', you need to read it first. Still rated for Teen readers and up. And I still want to borrow the boys if the studio is lending them out ;-)_

**7**

Victor Von Doom had survived a childhood in the severely impoverished Latveria, the equally brutal world of Western Enterprise, and the mutation that had turned his body to gruesome metallic perfection by learning to read the changing winds of fortune and plan for any contingency it hurled into his path. It wasn't enough to adapt to circumstances, a man who could anticipate destiny rarely had to adapt to its fickle whims.

He had anticipated the possibility that Dr. Sater's program would have deficiencies. That was the reason why he'd created the portable tracking device for Johnny Storm before sending him into the field to face his former teammates. The unit delivered a crude, abbreviated variation of the post-hypnotic program, a data-burst that would put him into the state of mindless obedience that Sater had termed 'auto-pilot'…distasteful by comparison to the elegance of a reinvented personality…bringing Storm back in line and back to Latveria.

Doom would decide later how Dr. Sater would be disciplined for her failure to fully control the boy, after he finished with her other two guinea pigs, but there would indeed be repercussions. When Victor was promised that a plan was functioning perfectly, would be perfectly executed, then anything less than perfection was unacceptable.

He also accepted Reed Richards was put on this earth by Puckish fate to be a both the catalyst of Doom's creation, via his fateful theory about genetics and mutations, and the bane of Doom's existence. Therefore Doom could anticipate that Richards and his bodyguard Grimm had survived the firestorm Johnny had unleashed despite all appearances to the contrary. A lesser foe, a fool, would presume they had been incinerated when they failed to aid Susan in her last gambit against her brother. The absence of charred corpses on all news broadcasts in the aftermath of the fight told Victor otherwise. Johnny had failed to kill the Troublesome Trio. He had tried, yes, but still he had failed. Richards would have made plans in case their youngest member avoided rescue. He would have found a way to trail the boy back to Latveria, to Doom's palatial hideaway.

Which meant the Troublesome Trio would soon be on his doorstep. Victor was running short of time before this string of failures deprived him of his prize, the Holy Grail for which he'd begun this crusade. No, Doom would not allow his prize to slip away.

He had also survived by being able to improvise. So, by the time he'd walked the distance from his private chambers, in the innermost secured section of the palace, to the laboratory wing where his scientists worked, Victor had already revised his plans for Storm and the precious cargo he was about to deliver to Doom. The interference of the Troublesome Trio had always been a factor in his plans---all that had changed was the fact that they would be pestering him sooner than he'd hoped. They could confound him by forcing him to speed up his plans, but he could truly hamper their efforts to save their brother.

Buoyed by that thought, Victor entered Dr. Sater's lab, where his newest 'guests' had spent the past twelve hours undergoing a session with the doctor's behavioral modification system. Mufale's guerrillas, secured to heavy benches, were still a bit pale. Whether that was due to their session with Sater's machine or their recovery from the Human Torch's version of frostbite, Victor did not know or care, though their discomfort satisfied him greatly. What heartened him was their blank expressions and utter lack of struggle to free themselves from their bindings. They didn't so much a blink in response when Doctor Doom stroke into the laboratory, the ever-present Leonard on his heels.

However, Dr. Sater, Victor noticed with disapproval, was clearly nervous to see her benefactor. She had every reason to be.

Victor circled his prisoners like a shark, but addressed Dr. Sater: "You've implanted the commands exactly as I instructed?"

Nora backed away from the bound captives to allow Doom to stand over them. "Just one: Obey your commands without question or hesitation."

It had been a hurried job, the brainwashing of these two soldiers. Considering what Von Doom had just seen in the fight between Storm and his family, this afforded too much potential for programming glitches. He wasn't happy about the need to rush the process. On the other hand, these men were being given a considerably less elaborate 'modification' than what Sater had tried to accomplish with Storm, and, unlike the boy hero, they had an innate proclivity for the kinds of orders Victor would be giving them. Perhaps the program would be more effective working on their simple, violent minds.

"You won't be offended, Dr. Sater, if I test the stability of the post-hypnotics." It wasn't a question. "Wait outside, please, and don't go far."

Nora felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. There was something in Von Doom's tone, in his pointed dismissal of her, which alarmed her. Something was wrong, or something had gone wrong. She didn't need to ask what that 'something' was. It could only be Storm's confrontation with his family. She only needed to know how grievous and error she'd made in her employer's eyes. On unsteady legs, Nora made herself walk out of her laboratory. The door closed behind her.

Victor faced his prisoners, finding them a pathetic duo at best. The mustached one was a man in his forties, overweight---not something one encountered in a Latverian living in this province. The other was a boy in his twenties, gangly, skinny, face still scarred by acne. If this was the best Mufale had to send against Doom, then Victor was doing them a favor wiping his army off the face of the earth.

"The two of you are anachronisms, very sad specters of a Latveria that's gone and best forgotten. You just don't have the sense to fade into the sunset with Kubeka and his kind," Victor told them. They didn't respond at all. "You're nothing to me but a last bit of business to finish, an old mess to mop up…a distraction from projects that will bring Latveria into the ranks of world powers, with me leading the way. You'd be dead right now, but fortunately for you my protégé found a way to make you useful to me."

He asked the paunchy guerilla: "What's your name?"

The man answered at once: "Baraga."

"And yours?" Victor asked the young one.

"Rugel Tollen."

Victor kneeled in front of the older man. "Baraga, General Kubeka had a friend who wormed his way into the Latverian government after the fall of the dictator---someone who made damn sure Kubeka was pardoned for the atrocities he'd committed, for my father's murder. I'd like to know the name of that friend, please."

"Gorshen was called Colonel Gorceac when he served Kubeka," Baraga answered without batting an eye.

The pieces of the puzzle Victor had worked years to solve became a clear picture. It made perfect sense, and yet he still was taken by surprise. "_Ambassador_ Gorshen? The man who wants to be the next President?"

"Yes."

Doom filled in the blanks. Gorshen certainly had the ears of the current political powers in Latveria. He could put words in the right ears to see that Kubeka and Mufale remained happily unmolested in the forestlands. "That explains how you're able to slip your weapons in and out of our country. How generous that he uses his veil of immunity to shroud your activities…or is he your personal mule when you need to trade poisons for weapons?"

"Whatever is required," Baraga answered.

"It's a very interesting ally you have. Would you or Mr. Tollen be able to arrange a face-to-face meeting with the Ambassador? Does he trust you?" Victor asked.

"Tollen is Mufale's personal messenger. Gorshen trusts him."

_That was good news indeed._ "And tell me are there any other names I should know? Anyone else I need to reward for their hand in the butchery?" Doom wanted to know.

The two guerrillas either didn't understand the question or had no more information to offer. Satisfied, Victor unlocked Baraga's shackles and then stood up. Despite his freedom, Baraga didn't move. Doom held out his hand to Leonard and snapped his gloved fingers, and his assistant promptly drew a pistol from his coat pocket. Holding it with his fingertips as if it were a dead rodent, Leonard passed the weapon to Doom. The laboratory door buzzed and Leonard was grateful for the excuse to look away from whatever gruesome scene Doom had planned.

Johnny Storm stood on the other side of the door, his face a mirror of Baraga and Rugel's blank faces. Still waiting outside, Nora was discreetly watching the boy, noticing his expressionless stare. _Autopilot_, it dawned on Sater. _If Doom had used the program's failsafe to summon Storm back to Latveria, if he had resorted to putting the boy in the same automaton state as the two guerrillas, then she was right in guessing that something had gone wrong with the program while he was in the States._

She swallowed against a sudden lump of fear in her throat. Then the door closed again, shutting her outside of her laboratory.

"Johnny, welcome back." Doom took the metal box from the younger man's grasp. He opened the case to find his prizes safely tucked inside. He took one of the large, crystalline rocks from the box and held it to the light admiringly. He was almost reverent about carefully placing the stone back in its container and closing the lid. "Well done. I knew I could count on you," he said to his protégé. "Wait here, I'll be with you in a moment."

Doom returned to his prisoners. "Rugel Tollen---as Mufale and Gorhsen's 'trusted messenger', if I command you to take your knife and put it in Ambassador Gorshen's throat, will you do it?" he asked.

Rugel answered promptly: "I will."

Doom believed him. Accepting the man's word, he checked the gun to see that it had only one bullet in its chamber and gave it to Baraga, who took it in his right hand. Baraga was more than familiar with the weapon. It was the one he'd used on the villagers.

"That's yours, Mr. Baraga. I'd like you to put a bullet in your left hand right now," Victor requested.

Baraga obeyed without balking. When the bullet shattered skin and bone and splattered blood on the floor—and on Doom's metal skin---the soldier didn't scream, not even a whimper at the pain. His right hand didn't even tremble when he returned the gun to Doom. Victor was pleased with the display. "I may not have given Mufale credit. It seems he does have an eye for good soldiers," he said to his assistant. He casually dropped the pistol back into Leonard's unwilling grasp.

"Yes, sir." The site disturbed the businessman, yet Leonard had seen far worse during the past six months and maintained his composure.

"And Leonard, tell Dr. Sater her medical expertise is needed in here. Then have the computers set to scan for any incoming aircraft—and specifically for Sue Storm's energy pattern. I'm sure Mr. Storm's family isn't more than a few hours behind him. I'd like a little advanced warning before they arrive."

"Yes, sir."

The door opened almost at once, and the doctor stepped back into the laboratory. She blanched at the sight of her test subject, Baraga, sitting unmoving on the bench seemingly oblivious to his ruined, bleeding hand. Doom greeted the woman with: "I'd say the p.h.c.'s are very stable. Congratulations, Dr. Sater. Keep an eye on our new friends until I send for them. Johnny, come with me."

There was no kindness behind the praise or in his tone, she noticed. Wide-eyed, with no idea how to respond to that odd compliment, Nora fetched a first aid kit from a cabinet and set to work doing what she could for the soldier's injured hand. She did not dare look up from her work.

Doom led the way out of the laboratory, followed by Johnny and Leonard. Nora briefly considered taking this chance to flee the facility…it could be her last chance…until she heard the beep of the control panel at the door as the lock was activated and the opportunity was lost.

The leading edge of the large blizzard was just beginning to drop snow outside when Von Doom led them down the access tunnel and back to the titanium-hybrid dome and the generator room beneath it, with Johnny following robotically and Leonard a step behind the Human Torch. "You've been helpful, Johnny, more so than I'd imagined," Doom beamed. "It's a shame our association will almost certainly be coming to an end today, who knows what else you might have accomplished under my tutelage. I think I've made my reasons for asking this of you quite clear."

He stopped at the door to the generator station and keyed in the access code. Doom and Johnny entered while Leonard stepped into the safety of adjoining control room. Inside the control center, Leonard keyed up the images from the generator room's soon-to-be-melted surveillance cameras.

In the generator room, Victor set the box on the catwalk and opened the lid. "If it's any consolation, you can think of it this way: Mortal men have their accolades, their fan clubs, and trifling achievements, but you'll be revered as a hero who helped changed the world in a way no one else ever could. If you have to give up your life, that's not a bad epitaph, is it?"

Had he the luxury of time, he could have permitted the boy to infuse the meteorites with his powers one at a time. It would have improved his chances of surviving the task. However, Doom did not have that option. He could sense the approach of the Troublesome Trio even if the computers had not tracked them yet. This had to be finished before they arrived. Doom removed the tennis ball sized twin crystals and placed one in each of the Human Torch's hands. Johnny blinked at the rocks, not even blinking to show understanding of Doom's words. There was a residue of regret in Victor's tone when he added: "I need you to make good on your word now---the time's come to serve the interests of the people of Latveria. You know what to do. Good-bye, Johnny."

Von Doom ducked from the room, pausing to pick up the metal case and carry it with him when he departed to join Leonard in the control room. The door formed its seamless seal behind him. Johnny's gaze shifted to the invisible door. His jaw twitched.

"_Okay, so you're going to prove I'm immortal by killing me with a big steel box?"_

"_Think of this room as your chrysalis, Johnny." _

Doom saw the Human Torch, standing motionless and staring at the doorway, over the surveillance cameras. He thumbed the intercom. "Johnny, the crystals," he commanded. When that didn't work, he held the portable tracker/control box to the microphone and pressed its switch. A burst of static and underlying post-hypnotic commands, amplified by the speakers in the generator room, deafened Johnny. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his fists tightly around the twin meteorites, and flamed on.

Heat poured from his body. The cameras and microphones melted into useless, twisted red-hot metal. The catwalk and computers survived only because they were comprised of Doom's titanium-hybrid and could withstand the heat of the Human Torch's supernova. The crystals responded to the on-set of the nova blast by soaking in the energy like sponges…and seeking more. The hotter Johnny burned, the more heat they pulled from his body until, in the throes of painful supernova, the Human Torch began to feel cold.

Ben Grimm jerked back to consciousness so abruptly that the sudden shift of his substantial weight bent and broke the supports of the fold down bunk on which he lay. The bed gave way and he hit the floor of the Warbird with a thud that rocked the airplane. "What the---?"

From the pilot's seat, Reed smiled at him: "You may want to strengthen those supports." He was glad to see his friend moving again. The duration of Ben's hypothermia had worried him almost as much as the cause of it.

The Thing grunted in answer.

Sue rose from the co-pilot's chair and went to Ben's side. "Ben, how are you feeling?"

"Like a snow-cone." Ben rubbed his pounding head. He blinked at his surroundings, and his memory came rushing back. They were on the plane. He craned his neck, searching for the box in the cargo section. It was there---with the door open. That meant Reed and Susie hadn't lassoed the kid after Ben got taken out of the fight. "Where---?"

"We lost him," Sue said.

Lights began to blink on the plane's controls and an alarm beeped in sync with the warning flashes. When Reed checked the display, he saw that the tracking computers had detected traces of an explosion in a remote province of Latveria.

"We found him."

It was a distorted signal; it might have been an underground explosion---an underground explosion registering almost three thousand degrees and climbing to dangerous levels. They were still at least fifteen minutes from the source of that signal, Reed realized with dismay. He hoped Johnny could last that long.

The crystals absorbed the heat from the Human Torch's nova blast until his body was at its limits---and forced him beyond his limits. Every cell in his body burned with cold agony so painful that he couldn't muster the strength to scream in its grasp. He tried to force his hands to open, to release this source of pain, but his fingers would not respond to his brain's commands.

Then the pain stopped. Whether the crystals had absorbed their fill or his body simply had nothing left to give, Johnny did not know or care. He was grateful to the blackness that softened the world around him and swiftly swallowed him in its depths. The meteorites fell from his lax fingers, light steadily pulsing from them.

Satisfied, Victor returned to the generator chamber, with Leonard on his heels. Doom stepped over the fallen Human Torch and picked up the twin crystals. Doom moved to the generator's large computer control panels and set the meteorites on a scanner. "The heat of the sun inside, cool to the touch outside," he wondered at them. "No detectable heat signature. A marvel. Now to find out just what they can do."

He pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it into its slot on the computer console. A panel slid open and robotic arms emerged, lugging a titanium tube. The arms twisted the tube open to reveal a pre-constructed section for the large crystal among the wires inside. Doom placed the meteorite in its proper spot. The robotic arms twisted the tube closed. A red light on the nose of the cone began to blink.

Behind Doom, Leonard checked the Human Torch's neck, seeking a pulse. "How much heat will it emit when it explodes?"

"As much as is required---weak enough for Mufale's butchers and Gorshen to die slowly of fatal burns or the strength of a nuclear blast vaporizing them in a microsecond," Doom smiled to himself, already picturing their deaths in his mind. "We'll see what suits my mood. Afterwards, the thermal cell will remain intact to blast another day. And another. And another. It's the perfect weapon—indestructible, self-replenishing, environmentally-friendly…"

"And priceless," Leonard guessed.

Doom nodded. "We will have the most feared and sought after commodity on the world's markets, legal or otherwise. All we have to do is set the price, pick a buyer---or pick a target." He was sure that many companies and countries would pay dearly for the opportunity to use this resource while others would pay even more to ensure it was never used. He'd decide whether the innovation would be a curse or Godsend to humankind after the offers began to roll in.

Finally, Doom glanced at Leonard and the Human Torch. "Is he alive?" he asked his aide.

"Barely, but yes, sir."

_Damn, the boy _was_ strong._ "Oh good. We may be able to use him again when we've mined more of the larger meteorites. Take---"

The portable tracker beeped a now-familiar warning: Susan Storm's energy pattern, cloaking something large, was moving directly toward Doom's hideaway.

"It would seem your estimate that the trio would arrive in a few hours was a bit optimistic," Leonard remarked.

Uttering a growl, Doom shoved the tubular bomb into Leonard's hands. With one hand, Von Doom effortlessly hoisted the unconscious Human Torch from the catwalk and slung him over his shoulder.

"Trust Reed Richards to show up early and spoil a perfectly good moment of triumph," he mumbled on his way out of the generator room.

The exterior walls of the old palace had been retrofitted with Doom's titanium-hybrid, making it virtually invulnerable to attack of any sort. Cameras scanned the area—sky and ground---surrounding the palace at all times, so not even a bird could pass by unnoticed. The reputation of the palace's new master discouraged all but the bravest (or most foolish) intruders. They weren't bothering to check for holes in the security of their metal fortress. So, it was safe to say that the minions in charge of guarding Doom's compound had become a bit lax in the past six months.

To their credit, after working with Doctor Doom for half a year, the guards had grown accustomed to 'weird and scary' and did not get cowed easily. So, when a living stone behemoth fell from the sky, landed on their roof, and ripped off an air-conditioning unit to gain access to the building, the guards didn't wallow in their surprised stupor for long.

Ben Grimm found himself in what looked like a banquet room from medieval days refurnished into some sort of reception area. During his plunge from the Warbird, Ben had done some quick reconnaissance. A landing pad had been built on the roof, with a small hangar big enough to hold a helicopter or small airplane. There was a massive titanium dome on the other side of the mountain. It was the source of the heat signature that Reed had identified as Johnny's. There were several more buildings that had been added on to this main palace where Reed thought Dr. Sater's laboratory might be found. Reed and Sue were going to search for Johnny and the not-so-good doctor. Ben was supposed to keep the bozo patrol busy in the meantime.

Ben was going to great pleasure in making the lives of these lackeys miserable.

"Cozy place ya got here," he taunted the guards. "Got a shabby chic meets Spanish Inquisition feel to it."

He hadn't brushed the dust off his shoulders before Doom's minions raised their weapons and opened fire on him. They might have been lacking in their knowledge of security, but they were well armed. When bullets failed to do anything but make the Thing smirk at them, the guards switched to taser weapons specially designed by Doom to mimic his own electrical powers. The bolts of energy from these guns hurt, even with Ben's sturdy hide. When two shots hit him simultaneously, full blast, it did make him stumble back a pace. _First, my own teammate turned me into a Popsicle; now I'm getting barbequed. This is turning into a helluva day._

"Save the electrolysis for someone with hair, goombahs," Ben suggested. There wasn't much to work with in the room as far as potential objects to toss their way, so Ben instead stomped over to the nearest convenient guard, hoisted him into the air and pitched him at the rest of the goon squad so they toppled like pins. He spied a potted plant in a large and (he hoped) expensive vase. The plant looked alive to him, so he placed his foot on the porcelain vase and kicked it over just as one of the guards, pinned down by the heap of buddies on top of him, tried to fire his taser again. The fronds of the plant spoiled his aim while the water spilled across the floor. Ben leaped up and grabbed hold of what he hoped was a strong chandelier as the taser shot met the water and zapped Doom's minions.

One got away and, disheartened at best, fled through a mortar doorway heading towards the interior corridors of the palace. Ben swung down from the lamp, landing away from the puddle, and ran after the man. The guard pressed a button on a wall panel and a large metal wall slammed shut, barring the Thing's path. _Wonder if ol' iron mug fortified the interior as good as the exterior…_ Ben drew back his fist and punched through the doorway just to the side of its control panel. His fist met only mortar and then the empty space of the hallway behind it. _Didn't think so._

Groping blindly, he found the neck of the startled soldier on the other side of the door, took hold, and banged the guy's forehead into the metal door, knocking him out.

There was something not right about the massive dome, Reed noticed as he and Sue made their way through the access tunnel to the coordinates where the nova blast had occurred. The area was only lightly guarded. The minions whom Reed and Sue did run across were easy to dispatch. When they got closer to the dome, they found cameras still monitored the area, so Sue kept her invisibility shield around them.

From the exterior, it looked like a power plant, albeit an odd one. However, once they were inside, Reed noticed that the facility lacked the proper equipment—or even space that might be allotted for it---to generate and transmit power. There was no obvious source for power, either. It wasn't geothermal, solar, wind-powered, or hydroelectric, anyway. What was it then?

And why had Johnny supernovaed? Reed knew why he would have picked this place—the dome was the same titanium as the box where Doom had imprisoned the Human Torch. If there were a way to completely seal it or a chamber that could be sealed (and apparently there was), the dome would contain Johnny's powers adequately. Reed just didn't know the reasoning for the blast. It wasn't hard to guess that it had something to do with Johnny's robbery of Selva-Uitti, but Reed couldn't fathom the connection. He wished he'd had more time to review any studies that had been made of those meteorites, to figure out why Doom wanted them.

"This looks like a shell," he told Sue. "I don't think it's a power plant at all."

"Then what is it?"

The coordinates led them to a dead end—the exterior wall of the metal dome. "According to the computer, Johnny's nova blast was somewhere on the other side of this wall," Reed said. "There has to be a room of some kind on the other side." He didn't see a door anywhere, but that didn't mean there wasn't one. He'd learned that the last time he'd come up against one of Doom's titanium containers.

"What about Johnny?" Sue wanted to know. She examined the wall, noticing it was made of the same alloy as Doom's box. There had to be a door somewhere

Reed checked his tracker and shook his head. "There's too much residual heat from the supernova. It's interfering with the tracker. I can't tell if he's in there or not."

"Here." Sue had found a small panel that looked like door controls. She extended her shield, prepared to block the entryway against whatever was inside---heat or human---and pressed the buttons.

The doorway appeared out of the seamless wall and slid open to reveal what was left of the generator room. It was as empty as the rest of the pseudo-power plant. They had guessed as much by the lack of resistance they'd encountered getting there. But, Johnny had been there all right—besides the lingering temperature of the room, they could see that any object in the room not constructed of the same hybrid metal had been melted into shapeless scrap. The 'generator' at the center of the dome was a shell just like the rest of the plant, Reed discovered.

Why would Doom go to all the trouble of building a sham power plant? Only one answer came to mind: He needed the dome to contain Johnny's nova blast. What other purpose could it serve? So, the question became what did Doom need with Johnny's power? What did he need with Johnny's power…and meteorites?

They found the adjoining control room next. The computers in this chamber were still functioning, and it was an easy task to patch into the facility's surveillance system and use Doom's own network to search for what they wanted.

"Found them." Sue pointed to one of the multi-camera images. It showed a laboratory occupied by Doctor Doom, Nora Sater, two men in paramilitary fatigues (not Latverian army, Reed knew), and Doom's assistant Leonard. The case that Johnny had been carrying at Selva-Uitti was lying open on one of the worktables. Inside was one of the meteorites, pulsing brightly. There was an empty space for a second rock beside it in the container. _Where was the other rock?_ Reed frowned.

What troubled them more was the sight of Johnny lying unconscious on a couch in the room. Their own concern deepened---that supernova blast had drained him badly, could have done him harm if he'd gone too hot. Still, if they moved quickly, they might stand a chance of getting him back to the plane before he regained consciousness, which would be easier on all of them. Dr. Sater was examining him, her brow furrowed in worry. About Johnny or about whatever Von Doom was up to? Sue wondered. The psychiatrist was tending to the Human Torch, but she was casting furtive glances at Doom and the other men and her eyes showed nervousness. _If she's nervous now, just wait until I get my hands on her,_ Sue vowed.

Reed found the volume control for the camera. Doom was untying one of the bound militiamen, but it was useless trying to read the lips of a man who had no lips and wore a metal mask. "…task for you, Mr. Baraga," Doom's voice crackled over the speaker. Leonard placed a metal cylinder into 'Baraga's' waiting arms. A red light on the nose of the cone blinked.

Blinked in time with the meteorite in the case, Reed observed. "What is that?"

"This is a gift for your friends, with my compliments. I think they'll be more receptive to it if it's delivered by one of their own, don't you?" Doom's tone was casual, almost friendly, but there was genuine underlying menace in the words. "Leonard will provide you with transportation back to whatever hole you and your comrades crawled out of. Make sure they're all present and accounted for before you set this off. And thank you for your service, Mr. Baraga." Leonard escorted the older military man out of the room.

"'Set this off'?" Sue repeated. She raised an eyebrow at Reed. "As in a bomb?"

Reed pursed his lips as his mind raced. _Had to be. Two spaces, but only one rock. The rock was pulsing._ _The light was blinking. And Doom had made Johnny supernova. None of the information about the meteorites mentioned the stones emitting light of any sort. Why were they pulsing? What had caused it?_

_Supernova?_

_Was that remotely possible?_

"A thermal bomb," Reed finally voiced his hypothesis. The power plant wasn't a shell---it was meant to be powered by those crystals like that bomb Doom had just dispatched. "Doom didn't want an apprentice—he found way to steal Johnny's powers."

The mission was rapidly evolving from 'impossible' to 'unholy mess'. Not only did they have to rescue Johnny and somehow get their hands on the post-hypnotic program controlling him, now they had a deadly weapon (the mechanics of which they didn't fully understand) to intercept and defuse.

If they got to Dr. Sater's laboratory before Johnny rallied from the nova blast, they might have a chance of grabbing him and Sater's post-hypnotic program. If the supernova had injured him, then it was even more vital that they get to him quickly. However, Reed and Sue had no chance of reaching the lab before Leonard and the guerrilla named Baraga escaped with Doom's bomb. They knew it even as they ran, still hidden behind Sue's cloaking shield, through the access tunnel and made their way back to the main building of Doom's palace. They had to try. Johnny's powers could not become a murder weapon for Doom to use on whomever he pleased.

Reed thumbed his communicator. "Ben! Can you get to Dr. Sater's laboratory from where you are?"

The Thing sounded a bit put out: "I ain't done being the diversion, Reed!"

"I think they're on to us."

It was at the palace that they finally encountered resistance. Alarms began to blare while they were still in the connecting tunnel, and a titanium barrier wall began to lower itself across their path to seal off the main building. Sue split her powers and placed a second force field beneath the shrinking doorway to wedge it open so she and Reed could slip under it.

The corridor on the other side was full of Doom's guards. Worse, the guards seemed to know the Invisible Woman was there. Portable trackers clipped to their belts were beeping wildly to herald her arrival. The guards didn't wait for visible targets. When they saw the barrier wall stall on its way down and the tracker showed the Invisible Woman's energy pattern, they fired their taser-like weapons into the seemingly empty air.

Electricity charged the air. Sue fought it off, tiring from keeping the shield in place. When Reed nodded to her, she finally let go. The shield winked out, revealing the duo to their attackers. The guards prepared to fire a second volley, but Mr. Fantastic was on them too quickly. His arm whipped out and wrapped around their ankles and then he pulled it away. They spun like tops, crashing into each other and the walls. Those who avoided Mr. Fantastic were knocked from their feet by a wave of the Invisible Woman's psychic power.

With the path ahead of them now cleared, Sue and Reed continued on their way to Dr. Sater's laboratory. A second wave of guards appeared. The Invisible Woman extended her shield so it wrapped around the men and constricted, pinning their arms to their sides so that when they fired, the bullets tore into the mortar and tile floor of the palace. With her shield, she lifted the guards and shoved them through the open entryway of an old dining hall. For good measure, she used another blast of psychic force to blow out that door's control panel. The door crashed down and trapped the soldiers inside the hall.

The roar of a truck engine drew the duo to a window. They were on the second level of the palace. From the window, they saw a path winding into the surrounding hills. A jeep, only just closing its roof against the snowfall, driven by Baraga peeled away from the castle and rocketed down that road. Before the roof closed, they saw that the case with the bomb lay on the passenger's seat. Leonard stood at the palace's guard gate, watching the jeep until it disappeared into the countryside. He raised a radio to his lips and said something to whoever was at the other end.

Reed turned to the Invisible Woman. "Sue?"

"Find Johnny," was all Sue said. She knew what had to be done, despite her wish to go after her brother. Reed and Ben would take care of Johnny, but she was the only one who could take care of that bomb if it went off. Sue's shield shattered the window and she climbed up to crouch on its ledge. The disc of energy formed beneath her feet and carried her out the window and into the sky.

The crash of a window breaking above him and the raining shards of glass alerted Leonard that something was wrong. He scurried out of the path of the falling debris before daring to glance upwards. He caught a glimpse of something almost iridescent gliding through the air…and a flash of blue uniform riding that shimmering sky wave in pursuit of the jeep that had just left the palace.

Leonard wasted no time seeking out the nearest guard and grabbed the man's radio. "Sir, I believe Mr. Baraga's task may be in some jeopardy."

In Dr. Sater's laboratory, Doom cursed. No further explanation was required. He knew what was happening, who was meddling. Leonard asked, "What do you want me to do, sir?"

_There was only one thing to do._ Doom turned to the inert form lying on Dr. Sater's couch. "The Troublesome Trio came here to get baby brother. The boy's certainly expendable now that his powers are securely within the thermal cells I say we give him back to them."

Nora, still working to revive the young man, didn't like the sound of those words. She was still in shock from the bizarre events that had unfolded in the course of a day. She knew she didn't have the right to be appalled. Kidnapping had always been part of her bargain with Doctor Doom. The risk of the Human Torch's life had always been part of the bargain.

But, either the bargain was being altered…drastically…or, more likely, Doctor Doom had neglected to share the entire scope of his plans with Nora. She had no pity for Baraga or Mufale, but she had not anticipated Doom using the thermal cells to create weaponry in addition to the power plants promised to Latveria. Was it 'in addition', she wondered, or was it 'instead of'? She had seen the crystal in Doom's case, pulsing and active, and knew the other was in that bomb. Both meteorites were supposed to be powering up that generator by now. That was the only reason she'd made her bargain with Doom. She wanted to help, not to create a tool to enslave anyone Doom pleased…not a tool to make delivery boys for Doom's destruction. The world was full of such horrors as that thermal bomb already and too many people who were willing to use one. She had never wanted to be part of inventing new ones.

"Dr. Sater, is he strong enough to use his powers?" Doom demanded.

Nora shook her head. She knew about Johnny's physiology from the medical files Von Doom's hospitals had collected. "No. He's not fully conscious yet. Even if he was, he wouldn't be able to sustain---"

Doom pushed her out of the way. "No matter." He reached for the portable p.h.c. device. "Wake up, Mr. Storm. I have one last task for you."


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story._

**8**

If the situation weren't so serious, Ben would have been having the time of his life. First, there was the fun of bedeviling the pathetic excuse for guards that Doom had hired. Watching them bounce off each other and the walls in their haste to get away from the stone man alone was worth the flight to Latveria. The old palace was also full of all kinds of treasures he figured Doom had acquired during his entrepreneur days or stolen afterwards. Ben was against vandalism, but in Doom's case he could make an exception, because the only thing better that whipping his guards' butts was using Doom's prized (and expensive) possessions to help do it. It didn't begin to repay what Ben owed Victor for what he'd done to his family this week, but it was immensely satisfying.

Ben just hoped Reed and Susie were able to get to the kid while he was busy running interference. He didn't know what was so urgent that Reed had needed him to get to Sater's lab a few minutes ago, but if they had worse problems than just trying to extricate Johnny from this place, Ben didn't want to know.

The lackeys were running for the lower levels of the castle. Ben didn't know why and didn't care. He pestered them with flying bricks, flying chairs, flying tapestries, flying broken surveillance equipment, flying broken office equipment, and flying furniture down the first two levels of the palace, he'd keep after them across the last one with just as much gusto. At the moment, the foolish guards were running down one of the original spiral staircases…which presented Ben with the chance to hoist up the carpet that ran the length of the stairs and quite literally pull the rug out from under the men. They toppled like extras in a Marx Brothers movie.

"Always wanted to do that," Ben smirked, discarding the rug. He tromped down the concrete stairway in unhurried pursuit…

…and found the Human Torch standing at the bottom of the stairway.

Ben would have been happy to see him, except that Johnny might attack again and the kid looked like shit. Nova blasts usually took it out of Johnny, but he looked like it was all he could do to stay on his feet. Johnny was pale as a ghost, with dark circles beneath his eyes…and his eyes were the creepiest thing of all. When he'd attacked them at Selva-Uitti, he'd stared at all of them like they were scum he'd scooped out of a swimming pool. Now, his blue eyes were dull and devoid of any expression. Robotic, yeah, that was how he looked, Ben decided.

"So, there ya are, Matchstick. Ya look like death on a Triscuit," Ben greeted his friend. "And don't think that just 'cause your wires got crossed by that box that I ain't gonna pay ya back for giving me frostbite back there." Ben was already planning to introduce every pair of boxers Johnny owed to Reed's stock of liquid nitrogen as soon as Johnny was lucid enough to get pissed off about it.

Johnny didn't respond, not that Ben had expected him too.

The Human Torch summoned his flames, though Ben noticed the kid strained a bit to do so and his eyes flashed with pain. He flew right at the Thing, and Ben braced himself to meet the younger man head-on. Johnny, however, banked right past Ben, grabbing the Thing as he passed by and savagely pulling him off balance so that Grimm fell off the stairways. He landed hard but on his feet, cracking the mortar. Johnny kept right on going, upwards and out through a window.

Ben reached for his communicator. "Reed! I found Hotfoot! He just flew out the damn window---"

That was as far as he got before a bolt of electricity erupted from the shadows and struck Ben squarely in the chest. Ben was blown across the room by the jolt. As he crashed to the floor, he caught a glimpse of Doctor Doom stepping from his hiding place in the corner.

The direct route to Dr. Sater's laboratory was too heavily guarded, and too many barriers had closed along the corridors once the alarms sounded. Reed had no difficulty finding an alternative route…namely the ventilation system. He squeezed through the thin grates with ease and caution and found the hole in Doom's security that he'd been hoping for. Every few feet, lasers scanned the air ducts for movement, but Reed could make himself quite flat when the occasion called for it. He slid beneath the lasers as smoothly as ducking beneath a limbo bar. His wrist communicator was thin so he could carry it along with him, but he had to leave the tracker behind. So, he navigated by memory in what he hoped was the direction of Dr. Sater's laboratory. The ducts were not what could be called a direct route, but they got him where he needed to go in a short time.

When he finally reached the vents over Sater's laboratory, he found that they had been sealed with small Plexiglas panels. It was a reasonable precaution for a lab where biotoxins might be found, and it was only a minor inconvenience to Reed. Like every other door in this place, it was computer controlled. Mr. Fantastic shaped his finger into a screwdriver and easily removed the cover plate of the computer controls and bypassed its lockout protocols. The Plexiglas popped open. Unnoticed, Reed poured himself through the vent's grating quiet as a church mouse.

Johnny and Doom were gone, but Reed had expected that thanks to Ben's warning. Nora was seated on one of the abandoned chairs, her head in her hands, lost in her own troubled thoughts. When Mr. Fantastic cleared his throat, it startled the woman badly. "Dr. Sater, I presume? Or do you prefer Dr. Reinhardt?"

She would have known who Reed Richards was even without his blue uniform and the signature '4' emblem on its shoulder. There were few academic courses one could travel in without hearing Richards' name and accomplishments. There was no television channel or newspaper, even in this corner of the world, where images of the Fantastic Four had not been featured. And she had studied his medical files, and Susan Storm's and Ben Grimm's, when she'd studied Johnny's files.

Before the woman could yell for help or trigger another alarm, Reed lashed her to the chair with his left arm. His arm coiled around her until his hand reached and covered her mouth, stifling her shout. "I would love to tell you about the kinds of trouble you've caused my family this week---and how much suffering---but I don't have the time, Dr. Sater," Reed informed her while he searched the room. She said something muffled by his hand. "I'm really not interested in hearing whatever you excuse you have for letting Victor Von Doom rope you into his demented games. All I want to know from you is how to de-program Johnny."

With his right arm, he began to rifle through her file cabinets, cupboards, drawers, c.d.s, dvds, zip discs, flash drives, and paper notebooks in search of anything that looked like the discs for the post-hypnotics program or the case containing that meteorite Reed had seen on the monitor. "I should warn you, Doctor, I'm prepared to tear apart this lab to find that program of yours---and I'll be happy to use that box you and Victor left for us in New York to practice on you until I figure out how your program works. That would be very unfortunate for you, since I have no clue how to decipher your coding or commands." Reed's search was turning up nothing. He began to open files on the computers.

They'd been erased…and it had been done sometime within the last five minutes. _Damn._

Reed glared at Sater. "Nod if you agree not to call for help."

Nora nodded. What choice did she have? Summoning the guards would be fatal. Doom meant to kill her. She had seen it in his eyes. If she wanted to live, Reed Richards was her only chance. Fortunately for her, if Reed Richards wanted his future brother-in-law back, she was his only chance. "You watch too many American movies, Dr. Richards. To be intimidating, you must negotiate from a position of strength….and you are not in such a position. You are not capable of using that box on the only person who can translate its coding," she countered.

Reed withdrew his arm, setting her free, but just as quickly put his hands on her shoulder and brought his face down close so that they were eye-to-eye. "Try me, Dr. Sater. After the last five days, I'm sure we'd _both_ be surprised by what I'm capable of doing right now," he purred.

That was no bluff. The circles beneath his eye, his haggard and disheveled appearance, the twitch of his jaw where he was clenching his teeth, and the antipathy with which he regarded the woman made that clear. _So, Dr. Richards could be a little intimidating after all,_ Nora changed her mind.

When Reed saw that he'd made his point, he let go of Sater and backed away. She kept her seat, not trusting herself to stand least he see how successfully he'd shaken her up. "What did a psychopath like Doom offer you to make a slave out of Johnny? Tell me. I'm curious to know---what was the price for perverting your work into something as grotesque as brainwashing an innocent boy? Not that you weren't on shaky ethical ground before that," Reed continued. "You had no right---"

Nora raised her voice, "Sanctimonious speeches won't get you any farther than intimidation, Dr. Richards. And I wouldn't be so confident about your ability to decipher it yourself. There are certain, how would you say it, 'booby traps' imbedded in the programming."

_Wasn't that just great?_ "What do you want then?" he asked impatiently. "And keep in mind that since people who work for madmen have the life expectancy of a house fly, I wouldn't be so sure I was negotiating from a 'position of strength' if I was you."

"Nothing you'd be prepared to give us," she answered, less sure of herself now.

Reed rolled his eyes. "Us? You and Doom?"

"Latveria. My people. My family. Why else do you think I would 'pervert my work'!" she snapped at him.

"Because Doom promised you something---probably that power plant---and all you had to do was help him get his hands on Johnny's powers, right? I'm sure he neglected to mention the part where he leaves your people with a useless shell where there was supposed to be a power plant, or the part where he uses Johnny's powers to create a nice new weapon to threaten the rest of the world? _Two_ weapons if you count the post-hypnotic control program you gave him, too. But you don't have all the bugs worked out of that one yet, do you?" Reed guessed. "Don't look so surprised, Dr. Sater. For one thing, as far as I can tell nothing happens in this place without someone seeing it." He pointed to the surveillance camera bolted to the lab's wall. "For another, if Doom had delivered whatever he promised, you wouldn't be negotiating with me."

Nora was defiant. "And you've never had to choose between your notions of 'ethics' and the welfare of your family, Dr. Richards? Then what do you intend to do if I won't help you? Walk away empty handed? No, no---I believe you said something about practicing using the p.h.c. on me?"

Reed refused to let this woman push his buttons. "What do you want?" he asked again.

Nora rose from her chair. This time she was the one to meet him eye-to-eye. "I want the thermal cells."

Ben's warning about Johnny would have come in handy for the Invisible Woman---if only it had been able to reach her. However, Doom's network of computers still controlled any incoming or outgoing transmissions, even on the Fantastic Four's coded line. All Sue heard was garbled static. She dared not reach for the box to try to clear up the signal, needing to maintain her concentration to herself in the sky on the shield while she chased the jeep and the bomb.

Instinct told her something was wrong, and she glanced over her shoulder in time to see the human-shaped fireball only seconds before the Human Torch slammed into her before she had time to think—and barely time to raise a defensive shield to keep from being burned to death by the impact. The jolt broke Sue's concentration and she plunged towards the ground.

Cast in haste, the Invisible Woman's shield was not at its full strength, but it deflected Johnny and, in his weakened condition, disrupted his powers. His flames dwindled and would not keep him aloft. He fell, body wracked with the pain of trying to keep his fire burning, to rally his powers to their normal level. In his mindless state, pain was of no consequence. All that mattered was completing his mission. Slowly, agonizingly, the flames flared hotter and his descent slowed. With full strength, control of his flight returned. He pulled up, less than one hundred feet from impact, and sailed above the dirt road and Baraga's jeep. Johnny did not look back at the plummeting Sue.

Sue smoothly rematerialized the shield beneath her feet, though it was a bit of work regaining her balance mid-air and she ended up kneeling on the disc of energy as it glided in pursuit of both Johnny and the bomb now. She was too far back, and her brother was too fast, shooting across the sky like a meteor. _How did Johnny have the reserves left to flame, much less fl_y? When Sue saw him on that monitor, he didn't look like he had the strength to light a campfire. As she watched, Johnny burned the roof off the jeep, then extinguished the flames on his arms and reached down into the jeep. He grabbed the guerrilla with one hand and the bomb with the other and lifted them into the air. The driverless jeep crashed into the trees.

The added weight and Johnny's fatigue slowed him, made his flight noticeably unsteady, but not enough for Sue to catch up with him. He pulled away from her, rocketing towards the mountains. She willed herself to go faster, but it was no use. She'd never intercept Johnny, she would have to follow the fire trail he made across the sky and hope for an opportunity to stop the attack when they reached Doom's target.

It would take several electrical shocks like the one Doom had delivered before Ben would begin to feel the effects, but the bolt still kicked like a mule. Ben grunted as he landed, but rolled to his feet with remarkable grace for a man of his size. He smirked at the black-clad figure. "Vic---just the ass I've been wanting to kick all week," the Thing rubbed his hands in anticipation.

Ben heard a chuckle from beneath Doom's mask. "I'm surprised at you, Ben. I expected you and your Neanderthal notions of payback to pay me a visit days ago."

"My Neanderthal brain says I owe ya twice, Vic: One for what ya did to the kid in that box, and one for teachin' him that deep freeze trick. That had ta be you; he never fought dirty like that before," Ben said.

Doom stood his ground, unconcerned, as the Thing advanced on him. "What can I say? An adept pupil excels under the tutelage of a superior mentor---but you wouldn't understand that, you've never been either one, have you Ben?"

"Save it, Tin Man. I don't buy that garbage you were feedin' Matchstick in that box and I ain't hooked up to your little brain scrambler." Ben swung his fist and knocked a large gargoyle off the wall, sending it flying right at his nemesis. Doom shattered the stone figure with one bolt of electricity easy as smashing a bug.

"On the contrary, Ben, I was being completely honest with Johnny…someone had to point out the obvious to the boy," Doom replied. Now that the Thing was almost upon him, Doom circled away, keeping Ben at a distance to enjoy goading the man a bit longer.

**"**Next time ya got somethin' ta say about me, don't do it from behind a camera…and don't jerk the kid around ta spite me."

Doom halted. He shook his head at Ben and said in a scolding tone: "You have too high an opinion of your own importance, Ben. If you were a man of vision, you'd be running N.A.S.A. by now. Instead, you gambled your career and your future---and your humanity---on a losing horse, Ben…namely Reed Richards. Why should I stand back while someone with Johnny's talents stagnates under Richards' limited leadership? Why should I allow someone with his potential to stay loyal to Richards too long and become a relic like you?"

With that, Doom stretched out his hands and directly a blast of energy at the wall, where heavy chains anchored another massive metal chandelier to the ceiling. If he thought that oversized lamp was going to do the Thing any harm, he really was off his rocker. Ben caught the chandelier neatly.

Doom finished: "Why when I can teach Johnny how to push past the limits you and Reed and Susan impose on his powers? When his powers can change the world?"

"You don't give a flying monkey turd about tutorin' no one, Vic. You're usin' the kid ta do your dirty work. I'm not lettin' ya make Johnny into your own Mini Me," Ben warned.

Von Doom reached into his cloak and withdrew the portable p.h.c. control box. He brandished it for the Thing to see. "Fair enough. You want to fight for who controls Johnny? I have what I need. It doesn't matter if you reclaim him or not anymore. Everything you need to restore his bothersome sense of fair play and family devotion is inside this box…if you can take it from me."

Ben was glad to take Doom up on that challenge. He hefted the chandelier to pitch it at the metal man. Before Ben let go, Doom reached out, caught hold of its long chain, and let loose with his full power. The electricity, conducted by the metals in the chandelier, traveled the length of the chain and along the fixture and finally into Thing's body.

"Do you have any concept of what kind of power Doom has now? Forget nuclear warheads; if that 'thermal cell' as you call it releases Johnny's maximum power, it will burn off the atmosphere. You almost killed Johnny using your hypnotics to force him to charge those cells, you could still kill him making him use his powers again this soon, _and_ you gave that weapon to a psychopath...and you think that I'm going to give you---" Reed's indignation made his tone louder with every word.

Nora had put one of the tables between herself and the American scientist, not that it would do any good if he decided to attack. "You have a very Western perspective, Dr. Richards. You would sacrifice the many for the good of the one. Yes, I risked your friend's life for Doctor Von Doom's help. Latveria is not a wealthy nation like yours, we don't enjoy the comforts that you take for granted. The power plant meant clean water, sanitation, money for improving our farms, food, communication, a place in world politics, and yes, I am willing to sacrifice your friend for that. I'm willing to sacrifice my life and my work if I can give those things to my people…people who only survived this long with the assistance of your 'psychopath'." She leaned on the table. "Unless you can promise such things, I will not help you stop Doctor Von Doom and I will not help you counter the post-hypnotic program."

_Was she really that foolish_? Reed wondered. "Victor has no intention of delivering---" he tried again.

Nora interrupted: "You have nothing to barter for my help if you won't deliver the thermal cell either, Dr. Richards."

"Even if I did, Victor will steal it from you sooner or later."

She shrugged. "I suggest you make sure he doesn't."

"I can't do that!"

"Then we have nothing more to negotiate."

"The sad part of this mess, Dr. Sater, is that Johnny would have been the first one of us to offer to help you and your people---if you'd come to us for help openly and honestly instead of a criminal like Doom."

"It would have been pointless to ask you for help. You would never have agreed. You would say the same thing you are saying now."

He didn't argue. "You're right, we wouldn't have given Doom a new weapon, but we would have helped any other way we could have. Do you think I can't understand what you and your people go through every day? I've seen villages like these all around the world." Reed took a deep breath, counting to ten. He might finally be seeing a weakness in her armor. "I'll make a new deal with you, Dr. Sater: If you help me undo what you did to Johnny and get those thermal cells back from Victor, I'll---"

"The thermal cell will be given to my people."

"_No._ I can find a way to help you get a power plant if that's all you really want, but those meteorites are going to be destroyed one way or another."

"If you would destroy our future, then we are no worse off with Von Doom."

"Really? And do you imagine that when Victor sets off a bomb more powerful than a nuclear warhead in your country, your people aren't going to be hurt? That the U.N. won't choke off the assistance your people depend on? Assuming the planet survives the chain reaction if that bomb explodes at maximum power? I'm beginning to think you _are_ a fool, Dr. Sater."

She lapsed into silence, weighing his offer and her options. A power plant—electrical, solar, wind, or otherwise---would not bring the great fortunes Doom had spoken of when he'd presented the idea of the thermal cells. She saw the revenues from that revolution in energy fading away and there seemed little she could do about it. If Doom intended to sell the thermal cells, then the salvation they might have given her people was already lost. If she stayed with Doom, she'd be dead before the sun set this day; that was a certainty. She knew Reed Richards' reputation, knew that he was a man who did try to keep his word. _Any_ power plant would be better than none at all, which was what Chendryn had at the moment.

Minutes ticked by, and Reed waited, forcing himself to be patient as Sater spent time they could not afford to lose making up her mind. It felt like two eternities passed before the doctor responded. "You've given your word that my village will have its power plant. I hold you to it, Dr. Richards."

Reed nodded.

Her decision made, Nora crossed the room and sat down at her computer desk. She typed in a command, and the lines of a safe appeared at the center of the seamless wall behind Reed. _I'm never going to get used to those hidden doors._ From her computer, Nora keyed in the combination and the safe opened with a soft whoosh of air. Inside, Reed found a flash drive and a small box.

"That is a duplicate of the post-hypnotic program and the control device that Doom built. It should be compatible with the computer in the box Dr. Von Doom left in New York City," Nora said. "I'll help you with the deprogramming procedure."

Reed would be glad for the help. "You know what went wrong with Johnny's programming, don't you?"

Nora smiled and shook her head, as if the answer should have been obvious to him. "_You_ went wrong, Dr. Richards. Victor should have never allowed you and your family to communicate during the process. It's not how the post-hypnotic program was meant to work. The stream of data from the program and the information Mr. Storm received from the three of you created contradictory sets of commands in his subconscious. I thought after four days I had successfully corrected the damage you caused. Victor let greed for revenge and for the thermal cells affect his judgment. He insisted on testing if he could force Mr. Storm to kill you. That was his third mistake if you include leaving the box for you to study. Naturally, the post-hypnotic commands were dominant until the three of you were present to challenge them. When that happened, it triggered a conflict in his mind. That's when Doom activated what we dubbed the 'auto-pilot': Blind obedience with complete suppression of all thought and emotions."

If possible, that was even more disgusting to Reed than the original idea of 'personality alteration'. He chose to keep that opinion to himself, however, simply because he needed to keep Dr. Sater's help now that he had it. He and the Latverian doctor would have a long talk about science and ethics when this crisis was past. "Where's that second thermal cell?"

"Dr. Von Doom took it with him. I don't know where," Sater answered.

Reed raised his communicator, happy to finally have _some_ good news to share with his family, but he'd have been happier if it was all good news. "Sue, Ben, I have the post-hypnotic program and Dr. Sater, but Doom has the other thermal cell. And be careful—we were right about those rocks do have Johnny's supernova capacity."

Ben was not indestructible. One or two bolts of Doom's electrical powers didn't pose a serious threat, but he couldn't keep absorbing the barrage of electricity, conducted by the metals within the chandelier, that Doom was bombarding him with. Pain was beginning to make itself felt. He was lucky that he'd dropped the communicator when he caught the chandelier or it would have been as deep-fried as Ben was feeling at the moment. He could have tossed the iron weight of the fixture off easily if not for Doom's assault. Electricity filled his senses, snapped at his body, and Ben couldn't do more than thrash his arms…

…but that was all he needed to do. Ben put all his muscles into pounding the concrete floor he lay upon, again and again, as fast as he could manage. To Doom, it looked like the Thing was having some sort of seizure from the bolts of energy, but Ben knew what he was doing. He just hoped there was a basement or something underneath this level of the palace. A few solid hits and massive cracks formed beneath him. Doom realized what was happening two seconds past too late. The compromised floor no longer supported the Thing and caved beneath him. He plunged away from the chandelier, away from the snaps of energy, and heard Doom's shout of surprise as he fell.

_I don't believe I fell for that lamp trick,_ Ben scolded himself.

Luck stayed with Ben. He landed in a small stream of water that ran beneath the castle. He was in some sublevel, in a network of catacombs and dungeons. Dark tunnels branched out in all directions. It smelled moldy and musty and was lit by good old-fashioned torchlight. Even the running water looked dank and nasty. Ben got out of the water as fast as he could, in case Vic tried firing his electricity into the liquid, and made a face as the slimy stuff clung to his skin.

"Sheesh. Plumbing needs some work," he grumbled. Doom and that control box of his were still on the floor above. Ben had to get back up there. _No problem. One good jump oughta do the trick._

He looked up just as Doom retrieved a lance that adorned one wall and pitched it down at Ben. The Thing snapped the wooden spear into kindling with his huge arms. He jumped, catching Doom in a flying tackle on his way up. They both rolled, trading punches, as mortar and electricity flying every which way as they fought. Doom finally broke away from the Thing and ran to fetch another weapon from its wall display. He brandished a mace at Ben, charging this weapon with electricity as he lunged. Ben feinted left, dodging the strike, and landed a punch to Doom's thick metal skull.

The portable control box flew out of Doom's pocket and skipped across the floor. Ben forgot the skirmish and went after the small but important device. He just grazed it with his fingers when electricity flashed past him and struck the box, obliterating it and with it their best chance of saving Johnny.


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story._

**9**

Doom took wicked glee in his victory. "You know me, Ben. I hate to lose."

The box meant nothing to Von Doom. He had the schematics in his computer system. He had built a dozen of the units just in case one should be lost or damaged. It was the hopes and prayers of the Troublesome Trio that he wanted to dash to pieces along with the device. Towards that end, he could sacrifice one unit.

The words still hung in the air when, with perfect timing, Reed's voice crackled over the Thing's communicator: "Sue, Ben, I have the post-hypnotics program and Dr. Sater…"

Ben It was too bad Doom was wearing that mask. Ben would have paid money to see Victor's face at that moment. Doom's metal fingers twitched.

And then the score changed back to a tie game when Reed continued: "…but Doom has the other thermal cell."

_What the heck is a 'thermal cell'_? Ben wondered, not having been with Reed and Sue when they'd made their discovery at the power plant. _It didn't matter. If Reed said they had to get it back, then Vic was gonna fork it over._ He balled his hands into fists, ready for round three with the metal man.

"And be careful—we were right about those rocks do have Johnny's supernova capacity," Reed finished.

Ben figured the rest out rather quickly. "So---it ain't about your mentor garbage. It's about stealin' Johnny's powers."

"Of course," Doom answered.

Doom bolted for the corridor, where he could close more barrier walls between himself and the Thing. He intended to reach Reed Richards and Dr. Sater before they could make their escape. Ben picked up the length of chain from the chandelier and roped Doom like the prize steer at a rodeo, yanking back so the man was pulled off his feet and dragged back into the room. He let go of the chain before Doom could try to electrocute him with it again.

While Doom was still entangled, Ben reached for his black cloak, wincing as stray bolts of energy assailed him, and tore it away. He found some sort of shiny crystal inside the cloak. The thermal cell? It had to be; Ben didn't find anything else hidden in the robe and Reed had said something about space rocks being what Johnny stole from that laboratory. This crystal looked like something from outer space to him, especially glowing and flashing like it was.

Meanwhile, Doom pried away the chains with a yell of outrage. Ben jumped, sailing above Doom's head, and plunged back down the hole he'd made in the floor. As soon as his giant feet hit the water, Ben ran as fast as he could for the dark tunnels. By the time Doom reached the opening and had a thorough look around, Ben had disappeared into the elaborate maze of catacombs.

Minutes passed as Ben concealed himself in the shadows of one of the tunnels, watching for signs of Doom pursuing him. The metal man never showed his face. _C'mon, where'd ya go? Don't tell me you'd give up your pretty rock that easy?_ Ben didn't believe it.

_Unless something else was more important? But what was more important than this rock after all the trouble Doom went through to get it?_

"Reed," Ben said into his communicator, "I think I got your thermal-whatsit. And, Vic heard your message I ain't sure, but I think ya might have some ugly company headin' your way."

Reed had to get Dr. Sater and the p.h.c. program out of this building and safely on board the Warbird, which---like everything else in the past week---was easier said than done. He'd only begun the task of bypassing the lock on the laboratory's door when it opened on its own and he and Nora found themselves staring down the taser rifles of a half-dozen of Doom's guards.

Mr. Fantastic spread himself like a wall between the guards and Dr. Sater, hoping his rubber-like DNA would give him some grounding against the jolts. Two prongs struck him and delivered their stinging charges as Reed blanketed the soldiers and pushed them away from the door, giving Sater a path out of the laboratory. Mr. Fantastic tossed the guards into the laboratory and pulled away. Nora took great delight in sealing the door and locking them inside in turn.

"_Reed, I think I got your thermal-whatsit. And, Vic heard your message I ain't sure, but I think ya might have some ugly company headin' your way,"_ Ben advised.

Sater blanched at the warning. Reed didn't particularly want to tangle with Doom when the doctor and that flash disc would be in the damage path of such a fight. "What's the shortest way out of here? Front door or roof?" he asked her.

"The roof," she suggested. She took the lead, guiding him down the corridors she knew to be the least-guarded.

"We're done here, Ben. Find a way out of here," Reed said into his communicator. Ben knew what to do. He'd meet them at the pre-arranged rendezvous. From the roof, Reed could get a signal out of the building to the Warbird if he was lucky. If not, it would be easy enough to get himself and Dr. Sater to the ground and make a run for the plane. He worried about Sue, pretty sure that his attempt to warn her had been scrambled by the dampening effects of Doom's computers. He only hoped Sue was able to get to Johnny---and stop that guerrilla before he set off that bomb.

The manor, nestled in the hills of Chendryn, was quite old. In the late nineteenth century, the land had been cleared away to make room for a magnificent stretch of farmland, a gift from Latveria's then-dictator, Duvel, to the family of his favored advisor, Arvizu, an aging man with a passion for wine (an almost unheard of luxury among the impoverished nation at the time). Most of the workers had been pressed into their jobs by Duvel's army. Shacks were built to house the laborers, who were generally treated well by their master and his family as the land was passed down for three generators.

The Arvizu family name still graced the gate, but the family was long gone. Arvizu's great-grandson 'donated' the estate to the glory of General Kubeka for use as his headquarters shortly before perishing in an unfortunate horseback riding accident. The shanties were barracks for the surviving members of the late Kubeka's fugitive guerrillas. The winery concealed an illegal stockpile of weapons and illegally mined gemstones that would be used to purchase more weapons—and more allies---for the soldiers. Jeeps, trucks, and a few expensive, imported luxury cars could be found on the property. A very few peasants were still present as servants, forced labor, and entertainment to the guerrillas. Guard towers were built along the perimeter and hidden within the nearby forests.

The soldiers living in the old Arvizu mansion had heard stories of a metal man who protected the peasants of this province, but laughed at such stories. One soldier had even returned from a failed attempt to collect food from one of the villages with a mad tale about a man who could turn his body to fire and who flew across the sky like a falling star. Again, the guerrillas dismissed that tale. These stories were dismissed as the fabrications of inferior soldiers who were simply unable to do their jobs. Had the militia the manpower to spare, these men might have been shot as cowards and liars.

These doubters were shocked, needless to say, when the fabled 'Human Fireball' appeared in the sky above the Arvizu Mansion, and only one or two of the men in the guard towers had the presence of mind to squeeze off a couple of shots as the fireball flew right at their hideaway. Their attention on the fire in the sky, most of the guards did not notice the man in their paramilitary fatigues emerge from the forest, clutching some sort of metal cylinder, until he screamed at them in Latverian: "Help me! Open the gate! Help!" He pointed to the human fireball in terror.

One of the sentries recognized Baraga and shook himself out of his panic and opened the gate to let his comrade onto the estate, though the guard was dubious about how much protection the wooden fences and bullets afforded against the man of fire. Preoccupied with the fireball, the guard never asked about the cone in Baraga's arms. Why should he? Baraga had been a trusted comrade since he was called to serve from the villages at age fourteen.

Johnny was having trouble maintaining his flames. His overtaxed body screamed in protest, but his mind had been shut off to everything except the last orders Doctor Doom had given him: _Help Baraga complete his mission._ _When you find the hideout of those butchers, make sure no one escapes the blast._ The Human Torch's entire being was dedicated to accomplishing that task. He had dispatched the Invisible Woman, put distance between her and the thermal bomb, and stopped only briefly to deposit Baraga in the forest and explain the attack they would mount.

Blocking all escape routes and keeping the troublesome Invisible Woman at bay was the Human Torch's job; the rest would be up to Baraga. As Johnny flew over the estate, he saw only two roads to and from the small valley where the estate lay. It took a couple of tries to summon the power before Johnny could launch a fireball at the tree trunks that was powerful enough to topple them. Trees crashed down, falling across the roads, making passage impossible. The soldiers could still flee on foot into the hills. With more difficulty, Johnny unleashed a stream of fire as he circled the estate. A ring of flames soon surrounded the place. A second pass gave him the chance to take out a few of the jeeps and dilapidated trucks (he spared the luxury cars, of course).

The inhabitants were in a full-blown panic by then. Not one of them noticed Baraga as he strode across the yard to the large house that was the soldiers' headquarters.

Sue caught up with her brother just as Johnny circled around for a third pass at the mansion. She saw people---some in paramilitary uniforms, some civilians---fleeing in terror as fire blazed and vehicles exploded around them. Johnny hurled another fireball at one of the outbuildings. Sue cast a shield in front of the shack, deflecting the fire directly back at her unsuspecting brother. That blast hadn't much strength to it, she saw. He was drained badly.

She sent a wave of psychic energy right at Johnny, hoping that it would tax the last of his reserves without hurting him. _Sorry, little brother._

The psychic blast sent him reeling, and his flames flickered dangerously low before finally dying. He started to fall. Sue swooped down as fast as she could, which wasn't quite fast enough. She threw out a shield and caught him before he hit the ground. It was a rough landing in the forest below, but thankfully not a fatal one. As she hurried after him, she spied guards hidden within the trees. They had been tracking the human fireball's movements and had seen the crash. Already, they were climbing down from their artificial nests to give chase. Sue passed the pursuers unobserved by hiding herself with her shield and got to Johnny first.

He'd slipped back into merciful unconsciousness when Sue found him. His face was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes, but his pulse seemed to be steady and strong. Some comfort. She wouldn't risk using the syringe on him in his condition unless Reed said so.

The guerillas left her no time to be grateful that she finally, _finally_, could bring her brother home; Behind her, they were shouting in Latverian and footsteps were coming closer. Crouching almost flat against the ground, she put her shield over both her and Johnny and hoped the soldiers didn't trip over the two of them as they ran past. Sue tensed, watching them warily as they searched the forest around her and Johnny before heading deeper into the woods, out of eyesight and out of earshot.

_The thermal bomb._

Sue ran to the top of the nearest hill, which was close to the edge of the forest so that she had a clear view of the mansion at the bottom. She spied Doom's prisoner as he deposited the metal cylinder in the middle of the crowd of guerrillas and laborers, pressed the trigger, and walked away. The cylinder opened down the middle, exposing the meteorite, and the thermal battery released a blinding flash of white light before unleashing the power inside it.

"No!" she heard herself scream while her mind already cast a shield at the bomb. She tried to insert her shield between the bomb, Doom's mind prisoner, and those around Baraga during the half-second between the explosion and the concussion of heat and energy, tried to save as many lives as possible. Her own energy knocked Baraga and a few of the men closest to him off their feet. They gaped and hollered at the wall of strange-looking glow that rolled towards them like a wildfire and ducked (as if that would help)…then stared in astonishment as an invisible barrier held the flames back. Many of them used this stroke of luck to turn and run. The heat and energy was stronger than she'd expected, stronger than Johnny's normal nova blasts, but Sue held it in until the fires burned themselves out. When it was over, the crystal's light once again faded to dull pulses and the cylinder resealed itself.

"Oh my God," Sue breathed when she saw the destruction Doom had wrought. She searched for a sign of Baraga, but in the pandemonium that followed the blast and the crush of fleeing bodies, she just couldn't tell. Beneath the shield, the thermal blast had left only scorched earth behind. Sue wasn't sure if everyone had gotten clear. She hoped so. She prayed so. If not, nothing but ash remained of anything or anyone that had burned. No one among the survivors was inclined to step into the circle of blackened ground or wanted anything to do with the metal cone that lay, unscathed, at the center of the blast zone. The soldiers and some of their servants began treated the injured.

She dabbed at the blood that smeared her face and felt twin trails of moisture on her cheeks.

_The thermal cell._ Sue had to shake off her shock, resist the urge to be sick that was born of frustration and anguish and sorrow. She cast her shield like a net and fished the cylinder out of the midst of the bewildered spectators and brought it into her own hands. The villagers spotted her standing atop the hill and pointed at her. From that distance, their shouts were faint, but their anger and blame was loud and clear. The surviving guerrillas picked up weapons and ran for the gate.

There was nothing else she could do. These people would never believe she and Johnny weren't responsible---especially not since Doom had forced the Human Torch to attack the mansion before the blast. Everyone down there had seen him. All Sue could do now was notify whatever help could be found in this isolated province once she was back aboard the Warbird. She cloaked herself, tucked the bomb under one arm, and went back for Johnny.

After winding their way through the halls of the old palace, Reed and Nora ended up on the upper level. Something large had been ripped from the ceiling, leaving a gaping hole there and a pile of dust and broken concrete---and unconscious guards---on the floor. Reed had a feeling that Ben had passed this way. _Nice of him to leave us a shortcut out of here._

He stretched his neck upwards to take a look out that hole, just in case there was any unpleasant company waiting on the roof. There was a landing platform that would accommodate a helicopter, and a small building that might have been a hangar on the large roof. An antenna had been fixed to each of the four corners of the roof, with thin wires strung between them. Reed could see the outlying buildings, and the cluster of satellite dishes and antennas and towers attached at various points along their roofs. He wished he knew which ones were disrupting communications. He found no signs of guards in the vicinity, but that didn't mean it was safe. _We'll have to risk it,_ Reed decided.

"My apologies, Dr. Sater," Reed offered. He reached over and coiled one arm around her waist. With his other arm, he reached up, grabbed the rim of the hole Ben had made, and pulled himself and Sater up, through the gap, and onto the roof and the snowstorm outside.

"Now what, Dr. Richards?" Sater asked him.

Reed raised the communicator and hit a red button that would summon the Warbird...provided any trace of the signal reached the plane. "If we're lucky, we dial a ride out of here. Otherwise, we're walking."

He received his answer quickly when the lights of the Warbird appeared on the horizon. The myriad satellite dishes detected its approach. Automated guns emerged from some of the rooftops and opened fire on the plane. The airplane's shields deflected the shots. The Warbird's defense systems took out the guns in under a minute. When the crossfire had ceased, the plane lowered its shields. The ship hovered above the roof while the cargo doors on the belly of the plane opened for Mr. Fantastic.

Reed was just about to reach up for the open doors when he heard Sater gasp.

He spun, putting himself in front of Sater before he had time to see what had startled her. Doctor Doom, his black cloak gone so that his metal arms and torso were exposed, climbed through the same hole in the rooftop. Beneath the mask, his eyes narrowed at Mr. Fantastic.

Reed had no idea what he was going to say to stall the madman while they escaped. "Victor---"

"So, Mr. Fantastic and the Troublesome Trio finally come to the rescue. Took you long enough," Doom said. He moved, but not towards Reed and Sater. He was moving unhurriedly to the edge of the roof, even paused to admire the plane hovering above his palace before looking at the two of them again. "I'm impressed you had the mettle to resort to kidnapping the good doctor, Reed. But then, a good father is willing to make sacrifices to save a son, don't you agree?"

Reed moved at the same instant Doom stretched his hand and fired electricity at one of the four antennas on the roof. The electricity traveled along the wires that connected the antenna to the other three, forming a barrier around the edge of the roof. Reed grabbed hold of the Warbird and hoisted himself and Dr. Sater into the air just as bolts of electricity shot from the four antenna and crisscrossed the roof like a deadly net of energy that would have electrocuted both of them had Mr. Fantastic been a heartbeat slower. Doom stood at the center of the snapping energy, soaking it back into himself.

Mr. Fantastic hurried; He and Sater were practically sitting ducks hanging there from the plane. Doom pointed his hand at them and Reed stretched his body again, still trying to shield Sater as bolts lashed at them. He screamed as one powerful bolt struck him in the shoulder of the arm supporting Nora Sater. Some of the energy reached her, and Reed felt her go limp against him. His arm spasmed and he lost his grip on the plane.

For a second, they were falling back towards the roof and the deadly web of energy Doom had woven. Reed regained his hold on the Warbird and pulled again, as hard and fast as he could, until the two of them climbed into the safety of the plane's cargo hold. The doors closed and Reed felt the plane bank away from Doom's palace.

He sprawled across the deck, letting go of Dr. Sater, who slumped beside him. Wincing as the movement caused pain in his burned shoulder, Reed put a hand on the woman's arm and shook her lightly. "Dr. Sater, are you all right?"

She didn't respond.

Alarmed now, Reed checked Sater---and found no breath and no pulse. _Oh no, please no._ Hurriedly, he searched for signs of a wound. The shock from the electricity must have stopped her heart. He still might be able to resuscitate her if he moved quickly…

Then he found the injury. There was an ugly burn at the base of Dr. Sater's skull, which had been level with Reed's shoulder when that bolt from Doom hit him.

There was no chance of reviving her.

Despair and unspeakable guilt was like a crushing weight. Doom had killed her, but he felt just as much to blame. She'd put her trust in him. He needed her help to decipher---

_The p.h.c._!

Somehow, the small box and flash disc had stayed in her pockets during the melee. Both devices seemed to be intact, but if the electricity had damaged them, if he couldn't decipher the program without Sater's help, then any hopes of saving Johnny had just died with the doctor.

Leonard had hidden himself away in the generator's control room. From inside the room, his assistant observed the fights between Doom and Ben Grimm, Reed's collusion with Dr. Sater, and Doom's rash execution of the doctor on the rooftop over the surveillance system. The man was looking quite peevish when Doctor Doom finally joined him. He relinquished the case he'd been guarding to his employer.

"Was that wise, Sir? Dr. Sater might still have been useful…" Leonard started.

"Dr. Sater's was here to create the post-hypnotic program for me. Now I have it, ready for use whenever I need it. Her usefulness ended when she accomplished that. I wasn't about to let her show Reed how to deprogram Johnny. The p.h.c. won't be worth much if someone writes a counter-program, will it? Besides, I don't tolerate disloyalty in my employees, Leonard. You know that. It sets a bad example for the other employees," Doom answered, his tone indicating that Leonard should drop the subject. "What about our test of the thermal cells?"

"Our computers detected an explosion reaching three thousand degrees in the precise area where Mr. Baraga told us we could find the militia's compound," Leonard reported.

Doom heard a catch in those words. "But---?"

"The computers also detected Susan Storm's energy signature at that exact location at the time of the detonation. I'm patching into the Americans' satellites to bring up an image of the area, but it seems reasonable to assume she limited the damage from the bomb." Leonard felt obligated to point out: "If she was in the area, it's very possible that Mr. Baraga's thermal cell is in her possession…and very likely that Mr. Storm has been reclaimed by his family."

"Very likely indeed," Doom didn't sound nearly as concerned as Leonard had expected.

"If they have our only thermals cells and Mr. Storm, then we've lost---"

Doom interrupted, "What? What do you imagine we've lost, Leonard? Losing Mr. Storm's services, one way or the other, was always a factor in the equation. If Nora Sater or Reed Richards had the p.h.c. on them, my electricity will have wiped it out, so it's unlikely that Richards will find the counter-program he came all the way over here to get. So, let him have his brother back for whatever that's worth. As for the thermal cells…" Carrying the case with him, Doom waved for Leonard to follow him as he moved from the control room into the generator room.

"As long as Richards knew I had them, he would never have left Latveria without them. His sense of duty to protect the world from that kind of weapon wouldn't allow it. It was easier for me to let Reed think he had what he wanted. He knew of two cells, he reclaimed two cells." Doom motioned for Leonard to hold out his hands and set the case on the man's outstretched arms. The locks clicked open to reveal the tray with the two empty spaces where the twin meteorites had been. Doom popped the empty tray out of the case. Beneath it was a second and third tray, each holding thirty small fragments of the crystalline space rocks. Leonard's mouth fell open for a moment, until he became aware of his undignified expression and closed it.

Next, Doom went to the generator and manually opened its panels. Behind one grate, safely nestled where it had been able to absorb the bio-thermal energy from Johnny's supernova when he charged the two large meteorites, was the quarter-sized crystal Doom had left there the previous day. It now pulsed steadily with biothermal energy.

Doom held the rock delicately in one metal hand. "Fortunately, what Reed Richards doesn't know won't hurt me."


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story._

_A.N.—I couldn't find a place where I could break this chapter without losing momentum, so this will be a double chapter, folks. Hope that's o.k._

**10**

News traveled faster than the Warbird. The Fantastic Four wasn't halfway back to U.S. airspace before word of the thermal detonation in the remote farmlands of Latveria---and the presence of the Invisible Woman and the Human Torch at the scene of the blast as reported by survivors---was spreading to news agencies around the world. The quartet was officially wanted for questioning by the Latverian Prime Minister and other officials. The United States government, interested in maintaining friendly relations with Latveria, had already promised to look into the matter. The group of reporters who were nearly permanent residents on the sidewalk of the Baxter Building were busy airing 'we warned you' pieces on the evening news.

On advice from Sue, Reed had answered only long enough to suggest that the Latverian government scour the area around the decimated mansion for a large group of men in paramilitary gear who couldn't possibly have been Latverian soldiers. Then he'd broken off communications with the endless parade of people demanding explanations from them and set the Warbird for stealth mode, cloaking it from the radars and satellites he knew would be trying to track them. Reed had more important matters to deal with first.

Silence had settled over those aboard the plane. Ben sat in the pilot's seat, flying them home. He kept one eye on Reed as the scientist poured over the devices Nora Sater had given him. His other eye was trained on the monitors showing the box in the cargo bay, where Sue was alternately watching over Johnny and checking on Reed's progress with the post-hypnotic command program.

Reed was keeping the Human Torch sedated for a while, not wanting to risk a skirmish in mid-air and to force the younger man to rest and recover after Doom had forced him to dangerously overextend his powers. For their safety and Johnny's, Reed had devised what Ben had dubbed a 'reverse wet suit', which kept the retardant gel in contact with the Human Torch's skin up to his neck at all times. The box had been rigged with the most powerful extinguishers possible, but Reed erred on the side of caution. Titanium arm restraints had been added to the cot upon which Johnny was resting, but they were all reluctant to use the bindings until it was absolutely necessary.

They all avoided looking at the fold-down bunk where they had carefully placed and covered Nora Sater's body. The gruesome events in Latveria had shaken all of them, and each was lost in his or her own thoughts as the plane carried them home.

Ben was trying to give Reed peace and quiet to work, but as the hours ticked by the waiting started making him antsier than the worrying. He had kept himself busy for awhile trying to track down the identity of the second guerrilla Reed and Sue had seen in Nora Sater's laboratory, but without a photo or a name to work with it was impossible. When he could stand it no more, he turned the pilot's chair to face Reed's workstation and asked, "So---what's the verdict?"

Reed didn't look up from his work. The portable controller would be handy, but in theory they could get by without it assuming the computer in the box had been properly repaired----and he had no doubt that Sue had made certain it was properly repaired. It was the language key that had been stored on the flash drive that was essential. "Doom damaged the devices all right. I can fix this control box, but the data on the flash drive is corrupted."

It wasn't the answer any of them wanted. Ben tried not to notice the crestfallen look on Sue's face at the news. He wasn't ready to give up hope yet. "S'there enough left for ya to piece together the program?"

Reed put down the flash drive and tried to work out the kinks he didn't realized had formed in his neck over the past few hours. "Enough for me to risk Johnny's sanity by using a program on him that might have major glitches?" _Or those 'booby traps' Nora Sater mentioned?_ "Not nearly."

"You have to try."

The words were from Sue, who finally tore herself away from her brother's side and moved to join Reed and Ben. She felt numb and tired and supposed it was exhaustion and shock. The horrors of that mansion and what Doom and that Sater woman had unleashed there were still burned into her mind. Those dreadful memories and the uncertain future looming ahead of them tainted her relief that Johnny was back with them.

Ben seconded Sue's opinion: "'Sides, it's not like we got a choice. Sparky can't spend the rest of his life doped up in a big metal box." Once more, Ben didn't allow himself to get wrapped up in the 'what ifs'. He knew what had to be done, and if anyone could do it, Reed Richards could. Reed was just being hyper-cautious again, like he was when he tried to undo Ben's mutation and restore his normal DNA. "If it was me, I'd want ya to try," Ben added.

Reed knew Ben was right, and he appreciated his friend's vote of confidence, but he was still afraid. His last mistake had killed Dr. Sater, and Reed didn't want to make another mistake when his family's welfare was at stake.

"Ben's right. If Johnny were himself, he'd want you to help him…before Victor uses him to murder anyone else," Sue added.

"Johnny's safety---all of your safety---is my responsibility and I won't r---"

Sue crossed her arms stubbornly. "This is _my_ decision. Johnny's my brother."

Behind them, Ben sighed. _Here we go again…_

Reed started to argue, but Sue didn't give him the chance to get a word in. "I don't care if we have to go drag Victor back here----"

"And get more people killed in the process!" Reed wasn't about to do that. "I'm not going to risk repeating what happened to Dr. Sater---"

"_I'm _not going to risk a repeat of what happened to those people at that estate!"

Sue didn't look at the body covered by the blanket, nor did she have it in her to hate the woman anymore. What was the point? She was sorry the woman was murdered and grateful she'd tried to clean up her mess after what she'd helped Victor do to Johnny. However, forgiveness hadn't quite made its way into her heart just yet—not when they couldn't undo the injury to her brother. Sue could understand Sater wanting to help her people, her family, her country, and she knew how easily Victor could seduce a person into his grandiose plans and schemes. He had fooled Sue for many years, too. But, Nora Sater was a doctor. As far as Sue was concerned, the woman never should have concocted the post-hypnotic control program in the first place---and never should have used it on an unsuspecting, unwilling man. She was supposed to have boundaries and ethics. Dad had taught Sue and Johnny that much.

Whether it was because of Victor's taunting about him, or because he was a neurosurgeon and might have been able to do something—anything---to help, Sue wished her father was there right now.

Ben tried to play peacekeeper again. He rose from the pilot's chair and put himself between the bickering scientists. "Victor's not gonna hurt anyone else with the kid's power, Susie, not after we smash that thermal do-hickey into dust." Ben saw Reed's reaction to that suggestion. "What? Ya ain't seriously thinkin' of takin' those rocks back ta Latveria? Vic will just snatch 'em again…"

"Ben, don't you think I know that?" No, Reed knew he couldn't return the thermal power cells to Latveria. He intended to try to keep his word to Dr. Sater, but those thermal cells were just too dangerous. Reed would find another way to get electricity for those farmers without giving Doom a thermal bomb to play with.

Misunderstanding Reed's protest, Ben walked over to the small box where they had stashed the twin thermal cells and opened the lid. "Then, let's get rid of these rocks right now…"

"No!" Reed caught Ben's arm, stopping him. He tried explaining the problem, "Those rocks are containers---containers filled with Johnny's nova power. Breaking one might release that heat all at once…which could be worse than what happened at that mansion."

Ben closed the lid. "That could get toasty."

Guilt flashed in Sue's eyes. Ben felt bad for her. He knew what she was going through. He'd seen all kinds of awful stuff when he was in the military, but he'd been trained to cope with it. She hadn't. _This guilt gala had to end if they were going to figure out how to help Johnny,_ Ben decided. "Ya did the right thing back there, Susie. A lot more people would've died if you weren't there. Those government yahoos will figure out what ya did for 'em containing blast and lettin' 'em know about the goon squad just as soon as someone loans 'em a crowbar to pry their heads outta their butts." To Reed, Ben added: "And Doom whacking Sater wasn't yer fault any more than what they did to Johnny."

They both nodded, but silence still hung in the air. Ben tried again, "Anyway, I got a question, Reed, since yer the egghead: If this 'deprogramming' all depends on those blinkin' lights, you got any idea how we're going ta get Matchstick to sit through the session? All this work yer doin' ain't gonna mean squat if Johnny can screw it up just by shuttin' his eyes."

Sue and Reed exchanged a look that clearly indicated they'd thought of everything…except that.

Ben shook his head, "Great."

Sue woke in a cold sweat, disoriented by nightmarish images. Some of the dreams she knew too well. Since this mess began, she'd been having the recurring nightmares of the one and only time Johnny (then only thirteen years old) had run away from their grandmother's care, upset when their father escaped from prison and failed to return for them. He'd turned up three days later, after Sue had scoured the city trying to find him, scared to death that something would happen to him and even more frightened that Social Services would use the incident to put her younger brother into foster care. Sue had pushed for guardianship of her brother after that. Johnny never talked about their father again.

This time, the familiar bad dream was joined with a new nightmare of Doom unleashing thermal explosions that devoured villages, livestock, forests, and then cities.

She was awakened, still in a panic, when Reed dropped a blanket across her shoulders. She'd fallen asleep at the workstation where the two of them had been pouring over Nora Sater's p.h.c. program and its elaborate 'language'. "Bad dreams?" Reed guessed.

"Those people…" she mumbled. "Johnny?" She looked at the box and the monitor that showed Johnny still sleeping fitfully inside. Still half in the grip of the bad dreams, she'd awakened almost scared that she'd find the rescue had been a dream and he was still missing.

"Still unconscious. We'll be back at the Baxter Building in another hour. I can keep an eye on him if you want to get some more sleep," Reed said. He could have used some rest himself, she thought, noticing the bags that had formed under his eyes. But he wouldn't sleep, she knew. Reed would sit there studying that program until his feet were permanently rooted into the fuselage.

"I don't think I can now." Sue stood up to stretch her legs and her back before taking a seat on the fold-down cot, which was less comfortable than the work chair had been.

Reed paused from his work, watching her with concern. After a second, he walked over and sat beside her on the bunk. "I know what you mean. It's true though---there wasn't anything else you could have done for those people, Sue."

"I could have stopped Johnny at Selva-Uitti. I could have gone after the bomb first," Sue rebuked herself. "All I was thinking about was not letting Johnny get away again. That's all I've thought about for the last six days." She'd have to live with that decision, and it was a good bet that, if she was going to protect her family and continue using her powers against people like Doom, it wouldn't be the last time she'd have to make and live with that kind of a choice. She stared at her hands, folded on her lap, and the gasket (with its recently added diamond) around her finger that was her engagement ring.

_Or live with what those choices do to me. _She took Reed's hand, laced her fingers through his. "I'm sorry you got the worst of my temper this week," she said, her apology there in her eyes when she finally met his gaze.

"Don't worry…" Reed wrapped his arm around her shoulders, making a show of flexibility. "…rubber, remember? It all bounced right off me."

Sue groaned at the pun, but still smiled a bit. She was about to stretch her face up to kiss him when Reed, in typical eagerness over his scientific work, ended the romantic moment when he extended his free arm and retrieved the palm-sized computer from the work table. She let out a patient sigh and took the small computer when he offered it. "If you're up for some good news, I think we've made some progress with Dr. Sater's p.h.c. program. Have a look," Reed urged her.

The screen was displaying a cryptic stream of data. She could make sense of some of it, but not all. Reed had flagged certain sections of the program's coding…repetitive and non-repetitive patterns, Sue realized. "Most of the program is repetitive…I think that's what comes across as background static. It keeps the subject in a suggestible state. The non-repetitive patterns…"

"…Are the actual post-hypnotic suggestions," Sue finished.

He grinned. "Precisely. After you programmed what survived of the language key on the flash drive into our computers, while you were sleeping, I started comparing the key to the coding. The computer made a partial translation. I might be able to use that to decipher the rest of Sater's language and the exact suggestions Doom implanted. I think I've already figured out how to counter the 'autopilot' command. Without the autopilot…" Reed pondered that for a moment. "…he'll still try to kill us as soon as he wakes up, but at least he'll be more loquacious while he's trying."

'_Autopilot'? Oh, so _that's_ what was making her brother act even more like a homicidal robot back in Latveria. _Still, Sue might have felt a surge of hope if she didn't sense the presence of the other shoe hanging over her head. "The bad news?"

Reed filled her in on the rest of details of his brief conversation with Dr. Sater. "Doom was a little too eager to make us witnesses to his little mind games…which means that the program wasn't executed exactly the way it was intended. We weren't supposed to interject with our comments while Sater's computer was 'programming' Johnny. Also, some of these commands are what she called 'mental booby traps'…I don't know what's going to happen when I try to counter them."

There were more variables than Reed would like in trying to solve this puzzle. In the back of his mind, he was also picking at the problem that Ben had pointed out: How did he make Johnny stop trying to kill them and sit through the deprogramming process? Reed was debating with himself between using the controller to keep Johnny on 'autopilot', to force him to cooperate (assuming that Johnny would obey any voices other than Victor's, and there was no guarantee of that, in fact Reed doubted it very much), but his ethical objections that he'd be no better than Sater or Doom if he did so. Ideally, Johnny should make the choice---if he were in his right mind. Turning off the 'autopilot' still wouldn't put Johnny in his right mind.

Reed closed his eyes for a second and leaned his head against the fuselage. . _Ask Sater for help or kidnap her and force her to help? Take away an energy source that could improve millions of lives—billions of lives---or risk creating a weapon that might fall back into Doctor Doom's hands. Make Johnny go through deprogramming or ask him to?_ For the past six days, he'd done nothing but make such decisions---always caught between the ethical Option A's and the repugnant but potentially more successful Option B's. There was never a black or white, right or wrong clear course of action. Every option fell into 'gray areas'.

Option A: Reed would release Johnny from the control of the 'autopilot' function and try to reason with him through Sater's wretched mind control, try to make him understand what had happened and let them help him.

Option B…

A _thump_ from inside the titanium box brought Reed and Sue both to their feet. Sue reached the metal prison first and opened the door. Johnny was still unconscious, but he was muttering something and his eyebrows wrinkled. The thump was his leg kicking at the cramped cot on which he lay.

"I thought the sedative was supposed to last until we got home?" Sue asked. She was already moving to Johnny's side. Reluctantly, she slid the titanium restraints around his wrist. They just couldn't risk a fight in mid-air.

Reed noticed the same thing as he moved to stand at Johnny's other side. "With Johnny's metabolism, it's hard to be precise." It was more than that. It was the post-hypnotic program reasserting control, apparently programmed to decide when the Human Torch had been dormant too long. It was trying to make him flame on, to wake, to burn whatever was keeping him unconscious out of his blood. Reed thumbed the communicator: "Ben! How long until we land?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Five would be better," Reed answered. "And lock the door!"

"I don't exactly got warp engines here, Reed," Ben complained. Nevertheless, he must have seen what was happening over the monitors because Reed felt the plane increase its speed. The door to the box could be opened from here, and the equipment could be remote-controlled by the palmtop Reed was holding, but the lock was controlled by remote, which Reed had left with Ben just in case something like this happened and Johnny tried to escape. The door slid shut and clicked as it locked itself.

Reed tried to snap a restraint around Johnny's other arm. The Human Torch's hand lashed out and caught Reed's wrist in what would have been a death grip if Mr. Fantastic weren't able to constrict his own muscles until he wriggled out of Johnny's hold. He hurriedly closed the lock around Johnny's wrist and took a step back. He used the palmtop to bring the box's equipment online.

Sue moved to the head of the cot and placed her hands on Johnny's shoulders. Even through the gel suit, she could feel his body trying to heat up as he struggled against the bindings. She was ready to use her shields, just in case she and Reed had to get out of the box in a hurry. "Johnny, you're safe. It's going to be all right," she said firmly.

Reed watched. When Johnny's eyes finally opened, before he had the chance to react to their presence, Reed thumbed the palmtop's controls and the box's strobes let out sequence of blinding flashes of light. If he'd interpreted Sater's language correctly, the pattern would at least bring Johnny out of the mindless obedience of Doom's 'autopilot'.

Johnny squinted at the lights. For a few seconds, he stopped thrashing and his gaze became unfocused. Then he blinked, first at Reed, at his surroundings from the gel suit to the computer-controlled lights and speakers to the titanium bands around his wrists, then finally at Sue. She spoke calmly: "We've got you."

Reed added: "How do y----"

"_Get off me_!" Johnny's deep, mindless rage returned, full force and nearly uncontrollable. The only parts of the Human Torch that weren't covered by the gel suit---his head and his hair---burst into flame so suddenly that Sue recoiled and pulled her hands away from her brother. She wasn't quite fast enough to avoid being singed a bit. She was only glad Johnny didn't shoot fire from his eyes like some alien in a bad science fiction movie.

Johnny tried to break the bands that held him down, but that was impossible. The sensors in the box detected the heat of his flames and deployed the newly installed extinguishers. He found himself choking on a face full of the vile gel retardant.

"I'm sorry about that, Johnny, but you need to listen to us this time," Reed apologized.

Sue's hands went back to resting on Johnny's shoulders, trying to convey their sincerity and concern through the touch. The contact only agitated him further. "We tried to tell you before, Johnny---Victor and Dr. Sater used a mind control program on you. You were in this box, Johnny. Do you remember that? Dr. Sater arranged to kidnap you from your dentist's office and put you in here. We tried to get you out."

"When Victor was talking to you over the earphone, there were subliminal messages in his broadcast. These lights and the drug Dr. Sater used on you in that dentist's office induced a hypnotic state and Victor transmitted the post-hypnotic suggestions…" Reed tried.

He didn't know what the hell they were trying to pull. Johnny did not remember that. He didn't remember this coffin-like box, and he wasn't interested in hearing all of Reed Richard's garbage a second time. "Bunch of crap.." he growled.

"_We_ don't lie to each other, Johnny," Sue argued. "No matter what. Do you remember that?"

_Johnny remembered the bench outside the lawyers' offices, outside the judge's chambers, and the hardwood floor he'd spent many hours staring at while events that directly affected him and his sister were discussed without him in those rooms. He remembered the butterflies doing loop-de-loops in his stomach every time he and Susie were called to one of these meetings. Sometimes the twelve-year-old was brought in to answer questions---mostly to do with how he liked living with his grandmother, how was he doing at school, and was he talking to his counselor every week. He knew the courts had their doubts about Nana's ability to be guardian for him, especially with Sue heading to college soon. _

"_If you're thinking of running again, you're going to have to take me with you," Sue said as she plopped herself down next to him on the bench. "We're sticking together."_

"_I know what they're talking about. I'm not stupid," he'd told Sue during one of those waiting periods. The idea of Sue going away, so soon after they'd lost their parents, and Johnny being thrown into some foster home terrified him. _

_Sue took her little brother's hand. "Mom and Dad are gone, Johnny. We have to watch out for each other now. No one's splitting us up, I promise."_

_He trusted Sue, but he didn't think she was going to have much to say about it. "Don't lie to me, Susie."_

"_We don't lie to each other, Johnny. Not ever. Got it?" She pinkie-swore on the subject, just in case he doubted her. The incredibly geeky gesture still made him feel a little better._

Doubt tried to creep into Johnny's mind again, and again the anger was stronger, asserting the control of the post-hypnotic suggestions. He tried once more in vain to break free of the restraints, to flame, to escape. His mind screamed: _Liars! Backstabbers! _He shook his head vehemently, rejecting what they were saying. Since he couldn't escape, he turned his face from them and shut them out of his mind.

"_This_ is what happened in the box! Go on, look! If we're lying, what do you have to lose!" Reed stepped into his line of sight, displaying the screen of the palmtop for Johnny to see. He keyed up the recorded broadcast from six days earlier of the Human Torch's entire half-hour ordeal in the box, sans the subliminal recordings, which Reed had carefully removed. The images tore at Reed and Sue, but they'd sit through every minute again if that's what it took to make Johnny listen to them. "I guarantee you're not going anywhere unless you watch," Reed informed him when the younger man didn't face the screen.

Johnny was about to tell his former leader what he could do with his doctored recordings, but the image of himself on the tiny screen made the refusal die on his lips. He had no memory of anything he was seeing in that recording…and yet, somehow all of it was familiar.

_"I don't care what Victor told you, Johnny. You don't believe a word that comes out of his mouth. "_

_"You're losing oxygen in there. It's going to make you feel confused. It's going to make it hard to think clearly. Victor's using that to play mind games with you."_

_"Think of this room as your chrysalis, Johnny. It's here that your transformation will truly begin."_

_"I could have picked any of them…I picked you."_

_"I never said you had a choice in the matter."_

_"Don't forget to say good-bye to your family, Johnny, you'll be leaving soon."_

_"I can't be like Doom."_

Johnny squeezed his eyes shut. The conflict between what he saw and what his mind was telling him was driving him insane. _Someone_ was trying to trick him. His eyes and ears told him it was Doom. His brain told him it was Richards and Grimm and even Sue. They were the liars. They were the backstabbers. That's why he left them. That's why he torched the Baxter Building. That's why he didn't have any problem with trying to kill them…

…or had Doom tricked him into doing those things?

For the first time since he'd left the trio behind, Johnny didn't know who to believe.

"_We've been trying to find you since you disappeared."_ _Sue pleaded with him._

"_You've been helpful, Johnny, more so than I'd imagined. It's a shame our association will almost certainly be coming to an end today. Who knows what else you might have accomplished under my tutelage?" Doom shoved the meteorites into his hands._

"It's the truth," Sue answered his unspoken question. "Victor needed to control you because he found a way to harness your powers and made them into a weapon. He knew you'd never willingly help him do that. He knows you're not a murderer. He almost made you into one."

"_The applications for them are almost limitless. It would be a revolution in the world energy market, with Latveria reaping the profits as the world's only supplier. People like our friends in the village would go from lanterns and latrines to world superpower overnight." _

"_It's a nice idea, boss. Only problem is if it sounds too good to be true…"_

Sue frowned. Johnny wasn't answering them, wasn't looking at them.

But he wasn't attacking them either. Maybe he was at least listening, she hoped. "Reed, show him," Sue said.

Reed knew what she meant. He called up the images of the wreckage of the Arvizu mansion, taken when the Warbird had picked up Sue and Johnny, on the palmtop and once again shoved the computer in front of Johnny's face so the younger man had to look. Hesitantly, Johnny opened his eyes. He reluctantly glanced at the screen.

"Victor told you it was a thermal cell, that he was going to use it to help those people in Latveria. It's the same thing he promised Dr. Sater to make her help him control you. This is what he did with the cell, Johnny. He made it into a bomb and he used it on these people. Sue saw him do it. You know it's the truth."

It _did_ look like the aftermath of Johnny's nova blast. He didn't remember Doom sending Baraga away with the bomb, but he did remember being ordered to escort Baraga and the weapon. To keep the Troublesome Tr---to keep Sue and Reed and Ben from stopping the attack. To make sure none of Kubeka's guerrillas escaped.

"They were the murderers. They killed innocent people---" Johnny heard himself answering automatically._ They were the murders. Doom wanted to help the people in Latveria. Mufale and Baraga and their cronies were the killers. Doom was a humanitarian._ Johnny replayed the words in his mind, but his conviction was ebbing away.

"That's _Victor_ talking, Johnny!" Sue retorted.

"_You want to talk about what happened?"_

"_No, sir."_

_Johnny kept his eyes fixed on the car engine, but he could feel Dad watching him. "You should talk. Last time you were this quiet, Susie had you duct taped to the water heater," his father joked. "What's on your mind?"_

"_Nothin'," the ten-year-old insisted. He continued working on the car and hoped Dad would drop the subject. _

"_Nothing's on your mind? Is that why you've changed that same spark plug three times?" Dad asked._

Johnny blinked and pushed the images from long ago to the back of his mind where they belonged.

"There were innocent people in that mansion, too! You've never gone after bad guys with the intention to kill them, no matter how awful they were, and you know it! You didn't just wake up one evening and suddenly decide to forget everything you believe in and switch sides! Come on, you know we're right!" Sue continued.

Reed had an inspiration: "Doom murdered Nora Sater, too, Johnny."

Johnny finally looked at him, trying to judge the truth of what Richards had just said. "I don't believe you."

"I wish I was lying, but you know what Doom's capable of. Dr. Sater gave me the post-hypnotic control program. She was going to help us free you from Doom's mind control. Victor killed her first," Reed informed him. "It was a spiteful, pointless, disgusting, cold-blooded murder, believe me."

Johnny faltered, recalling Doom's advice: _I've told you, don't ever spare the life of anyone who has the power to destroy you. Destroy them first._ But the doc? No, that couldn't be right. Richards was trying to con him.

Disbelief lingered on the younger man's face. They'd made him doubt Doom, just a little, despite the influence of the p.h.c. program. That was progress---at least, Reed hoped so. If he could prove it to the younger man…well, maybe he'd be more receptive to what they were trying to tell him.

Sue must have had the same idea. Still, her next words stunned even Reed: "I'll make a deal with you, Johnny---I'll prove what Reed said is true. Nora Sater's here. We couldn't leave her there. I'll let you see her for yourself. After that, if you believe there's even a chance Victor is responsible for her death, you stay and let us try to help you. If you still think we're lying or trying to trick you…you're free to leave." The last four words almost killed her, but it was the only chip with which she could bargain for Johnny's trust if her word no longer carried weight.

Johnny considered that, and then nodded. He didn't think Sue would really let him go, and if she did, Richards and Grimm would stop him. But, he'd play along; he was never going to get out of the restraints otherwise. If he could get out of the bindings, out of the box, then he might have a shot at escaping. "Deal," he agreed.

Reed wasn't sure about Sue's plan, but from the look on her face, he knew better than to argue with her. _It's still one hell of a gamble._ Sue unlocked the restraints, but was still ready to contain Johnny if he attacked them. Johnny sat up, rubbing the circulation back into his hands. He watched them both warily. They backed away a couple of steps.

"Ben, open the door. We're coming out," Reed said over the communicator.

Reed could almost hear Ben's jaw hit the floor. "Say again? Did I hear ya right?"

"Open the door," Sue ordered, staring into the camera so he could see that she was serious.

After the slightest of delays, the lock clicked and the door appeared amidst the seamless metal. Reed led the way out, watching Johnny as he followed. The Human Torch couldn't get out of the gel suit without some effort, but that didn't make him harmless. Sue was the last one out of the box and kept her guard up. Reed moved to the bunk where they'd placed Nora and pulled the sheet away from her face. He stepped aside to allow Johnny to see.

_Oh God. _Johnny blanched at the sight, all concerns about escaping momentarily forgotten.

It was the doc, all right. Johnny laid one hand across her forehead and very gently turned her face so that he could see the fatal wound. At the base of her skull, there was something that could only be an electrical burn---one caused by more voltage than most machines could generate…but not more than Doom could toss off. It reminded Johnny of the pictures the newspapers printed of the poor jerk banker that Doom had wiped out by burning a hole in his chest. Richards and Grimm couldn't have done this. They were too goody-two-shoes to kill a woman, especially a harmless, powerless woman. Johnny didn't believe in hurting women either…

…not until recently.

…not until he'd left the team and joined Doom.

…not until Doom turned him against his family, made him attack them, attack Susie.

"_Is that why you've changed the same spark plug three times?" Dad asked._

_Johnny hadn't been concentrating on the half-finished car. He'd been distracted with hearing gunshots in his mind every time he or his father dropped a tool on the cement floor. He'd been seeing his father running in the directions of the gunshots, yelling at Johnny to stay where he was. Johnny, naturally, hadn't obeyed. He'd been seeing blood in every smear of grease on their faces and drop of oil they spilled on the garage floor. He still had nightmares about seeing Mr. Barnes, the grocer, clutching his bleeding arm…and of the robber he'd shot lying on the sidewalk, blood gushing where the bullet had hit his neck._

"_Jonathan Spencer Storm!" Uh-oh. Middle names. Dad must have been talking while Johnny was zoned out. The boy jumped._

"_You want to know why I saved a man like that robber? Or why I helped him before I helped Mr. Barnes?"_

_Johnny shook his head. He'd watched enough episodes of MASH to understand that the worst injuries got treated first. "No—I know. That oath and stuff."_

_Dad circled around the car until he stood in front of the boy. "'And stuff'? Meaning you don't agree?"_

_He knew the answer his Dad expected from him. It still took some effort to stammer it out: "No, sir. I mean, yes sir."_

"_I take that 'oath and stuff' seriously, son. What I do is important to me. Not as important as you and Susie and your mother, family always comes first, but important. Whether he was a bad man or not, my job is to try to save any lives that I can, not just the people I think deserve my help." _

Ben lumbered into the room. He was about to demand to know what kind of hare-brained scheme was going on inside Reed and Susie's mind when he saw Johnny kneeling by one of the bunks, with one hand on Dr. Sater's forehead. The kid looked ready to lose his lunch. _Maybe it wasn't such a screwball idea after all._

After a minute, Ben cleared his throat. "Some 'mentor' ya picked, Matchstick."

Ben's voice rekindled that anger, but this time Johnny forced his temper in check. He still couldn't flame on, but for a second his eyes flashed fire at the Thing in warning.

The plane had landed sometime during the melee. He could see the hangar of the Baxter Building outside the window. Escape would be difficult, but not impossible. The urge to seek his chance to flee and go back to Latveria was strong, almost overwhelming. Johnny tried to resist it, still intent on figuring out whether it was Doom or Richards playing him for a fool. His hands began to tremble with the effort of restraining the impulse to run or attack.

Reed stepped in: "Do you believe us now?"

Johnny didn't answer…but he did at least glance at Reed in acknowledgment of the question.

"The last thing you said when you were in that box was 'I trust you, Reed'. I'm asking, can you trust me one more time, son?"

"_Always picking the wrong father figures, the wrong mentors…always disappointed." Doom's voice taunted._

Johnny's shaking hands went to his forehead.

"_Prisoner 34789—Storm, Jonathan S., it's your lucky day: You don't have to eat what the State Corrections System feeds its residents. Your old man helped us find the guy who really jacked that car. The charges have been dropped." The guard addressed the nineteen-year-old in the cell after opening the door._

_Johnny was startled. The guard didn't realize what he'd just said was impossible. Wasn't it? Then Reed Richards stepped around the corner. "That's not my dad, that's my sister's geek ex-boyfriend," Johnny corrected. It should have been obvious, if the guard was paying attention, that the science nerd was no way old enough to be Johnny's father. Then again, from the stern, disappointed look Reed was giving Johnny, he might as well have been Dad. _

_Still, Johnny wasn't going to say 'no' to getting sprung from this cesspool. He met Reed's look with a smirk and swaggered from the cell as if getting tossed in there was no big deal…never mind that the teenager had been saying prayers to every saint he knew only five minutes ago. He waited until they were safely out the gates and driving away before he asked Reed: "How'd you do it?"_

_Reed kept his eye on the road. "Hacked into the surveillance system. You're just lucky those chop shop guys don't have the sense to avoid cameras."_

"_They're thieves, not Mensa. You didn't call Sue?" When Johnny called Sue's ex-boyfriend (not knowing who else would be goody-two-shoes enough to believe in his innocence, much less try to help), he'd expected that the first thing Reed would do was blab to Sue, even though the teenager was now a legal adult and she technically wasn't his guardian anymore._

"_No, Hopefully she's at work with no clue that any of this happened," Reed told him. "I assumed that's what you wanted since you called me and not her, right?"_

_Yes, actually, it was. Susie tended to freak over little things like her brother getting mistaken for a car thief and tossed in jail and almost having his entire future ruined. But Johnny still hadn't _really_ believed Reed would show up, and let alone that he'd come after him personally, go to such lengths to help Johnny clear his name, _and_ try to protect Sue by leaving her out of the loop. Maybe the guy was okay after all... _

_Too much._ His mind told him that Richards was a liar, that all of them were liars, that they were his enemy…his memories told him otherwise. Johnny's tenuous control over his own mind began to fail as conflicting information confused him. Every molecule in his body, and the rage that yearned to reassert control of his mind, cried out for him to flame on, to kill them and make good his escape, and he couldn't resist much longer. The suit doused the fires, but the gel began to sizzle as the heat pouring off Johnny's skin intensified.

Reed knew at once what was happening even before the first bubbles appeared on the gel suit. "_Damn_!"

Ben was baffled. The kid looked like he was going to have a seizure. "What? The kid got brainlock or something?"

_That was pretty accurate, actually._ Reed was already at his workstation calling up the fire suppression system. "It's one of the booby traps Sater warned me about. He's resisting the post-hypnotic suggestions and the commands are trying to regain control. Get him back in the box----!"

_Too late._ Johnny was tearing at the binding suit, running for the hatch, seeking escape. His uncovered face and head burst into flames. He didn't get halfway to the door Ben warned Reed and Sue, "Hang on!" The Thing stomped his foot violently enough to rock the plane. The docked Warbird jolted like it had hit air turbulence and Johnny was thrown from his feet. Susie took over from there. She cast a shield around her brother and propelled him back into the waiting titanium prison, mindful not to hurt him in the process.

Ben was there, ready to hoist Johnny onto the waiting bunk. The gel suit was badly blistered, beginning to melt in some places. Beneath it, the retardant was boiling off quickly. Beneath that, Johnny's uniform glowed as he attempted to flame. Ben was about to put the restraints back on Johnny's wrists, but if the kid flamed on, the bindings weren't going to hold him anyway. Sue resumed her place beside the bunk. There wasn't enough room for four people and a bunk in the small box (particularly when one of those people was the size of Ben), so Reed stood just outside the door.

Sue was about to put her shield up, but instead took a chance. She grabbed Johnny's gloved hand, feeling the heat beginning to penetrate the disintegrating gel suit.

"Sue, watch it---!" Ben warned.

She knew what she was doing. "This is Doom's game, Johnny." Sue made sure her brother was listening to her, moving her head when he turned his face so that they remained in eye contact. "You don't want to hurt me. I know you don't. I'm not going anywhere. If you nova, you're going to take me with you."

"_If you're thinking of running again, you're going to have to take me with you. We're sticking together."_

Johnny squinted at her through the effort of fighting the nova...and the anger. Doom's snide words baited him still: _Need is an impurity. A vulnerability. You still have it…in fact, Sue is a weakness we have in common._

_No, he didn't want to hurt Susie._

Ben wasn't about to get in Sue's way; neither was he going to let her get flame-broiled on her own. So he dug in his own heels. He stepped forward where the younger man could see him as well. "What the hell. Count me in. Ya gotta vaporize me too, junior---understood?"

_"I said, 'Understood'?" _

_Johnny bit his tongue, kept standing at full attention, and refrained from answering with the smart-assed retorts that came to his mind at the question. It wasn't as if Commander Benjamin Grimm was subtle (anytime in his life), much less obscure, when making his point. It wasn't as if Johnny hadn't heard his commanding officer loud and clear with Grimm standing almost nose-to-nose with him while he barked out his reprimands. _

_The only answer Johnny knew was safe when dealing with a seriously pissed off Ben Grimm was: "Yes, _Sir_!"_

_And it wasn't as if Johnny weren't used to finding himself on the receiving end of said reprimands. Grimm couldn't be a bigger hard-ass if he were made of stone. The fact that Johnny had tackled with ease every obstacle, task, and curveball Grimm threw his way didn't impress the guy one bit. If he was trying to prove he wasn't going to play favorites with N.A.S.A.'s trainees just because Johnny was the kid brother of Reed Richards' ex-girlfriend, he'd succeeded beyond his wildest expectations. _

_He didn't want or need to hear that he'd screwed up…and screwed up big this time. Johnny knew that much. Bringing non-authorized persons into restricted areas: Bad. Wrecking N.A.S.A. equipment while sneaking said non-authorized persons into said restricted areas: Very Bad. Embarrassing his utterly humorless C.O…very, very, _very_ bad. What he wanted to hear was what his C.O. planned to say to the group of men and women waiting on the other side of that door. When it came right down to it, Johnny didn't know if he could count on the man. If Grimm, of all people, didn't trust him, if he wasn't going to say a word in his defense, then Johnny's career at N.A.S.A. was going to be a brief one. _

_Grimm didn't wait for him to respond anyway. "All skill and no sensibility will not get you far while you're my responsibility. I stuck my neck out for you, Storm. You get yourself killed, that's your problem. You get your crew killed, that's _my_ mistake because I put you on the shuttle in the first place. I don't need mavericks, show-offs, or fools under my command, on my ship, or on my team and, junior, some days you are all three. Am I making myself clear!"_

_Again, Johnny only dared answering, "Yes, _Sir_!"_

"_Good. Now sit your ass on that chair," Ben pointed to a wooden chair beside the door, "and keep it there until I tell you otherwise!" With that, his C.O. pushed past him and locked himself in the room with the panel reviewing Johnny's transgression, leaving the younger man sitting on that chair in the hallway, with the uncomfortable feeling of déjà vu as his future was debated once again by people behind closed doors…_

Through the haze of pain at holding in power that screamed for release, Johnny glanced hazily at the massive stone man. The rage that was shattering the Human Torch's control spoke in Doom's voice once more: _"__The point, Johnny, is that Grimm was your C.O., he had a say in the decision to throw you out, you have to know that. At the least, he had the power to speak in your defense. Come on, Johnny, tell me the truth, you must be a little angry with him. You were angry when you came knocking on my door. I know you were." _

Johnny almost smiled, despite the strain his body was undergoing. He knew what had happened in that meeting without Ben, Reed, Sue, or Doom telling him…

_Closed doors were only effective when they were, in fact, closed and better still guarded. The door separating Johnny from the on-going discussion on the other side wasn't quite shut. It was ajar thanks to the harried clerk who'd followed Grimm into the session, and the beckoning opportunity was too much temptation for Johnny. Grimm had told him to stay in the chair, but that didn't mean the chair had to stay put. Slowly and ever so quietly, Johnny scooted the chair closer, until he could hear the voices on the other side._

_"Commander," a voice that Johnny didn't recognize greeted._

_There was the scraping sound of a chair being moved and Grimm answered, "Sir."_

_"We won't waste your time. You're familiar with the details of incident in question, and you're Mr. Storm's commanding officer. We'd like your recommendations before we made a decision about disciplinary actions."_

_It seemed a long time to Johnny, who was braced for the knife about to be plunged into his back, but Grimm didn't miss a beat. But it wasn't the answer Johnny had expected, nor the one review board anticipated judging by the surprised murmurs on the other side of the door when Ben said: "Johnny Storm is the best trainee in the program, Sir."_

_During the brief commotion Ben's reply had created, someone noticed the door and pushed it shut. _

For a guy who prided himself on knowing everything about everyone, Doom sure got his facts screwed up a lot.

Johnny _had_ been angry about being tossed out of N.A.S.A.---angry at the higher-ups who'd decided his fate, angry at himself for his own stupid mistake, and, yes, angry at Ben Grimm---- not for what happened during that review but for being one of the most uptight, most unpleasant, most admirable s.o.b.s it had been Johnny's sorry good fortune to meet. Ben Grimm had been as much a hero back then as he was now, in his reluctant role of _super_hero, and yeah, his opinion had mattered to Johnny. Disappointing Ben Grimm had been worse than disappointing the higher-ups who'd booted Johnny out of the space program, worse than disappointing himself.

Doom was wrong about Susie. There would be nothing left of Johnny and Sue's family if she hadn't been strong enough to keep both of them together, hadn't done her best to fill the void left by their parents. He wouldn't be the person he was now if she hadn't been there for him, hadn't nagged and harassed him from PS 201 to N.A.S.A. to Von Doom's space program, hadn't chased him down wherever trouble led him---chop shops of Boston, bus stations and bars in New York City, the backwoods of Latveria. Susie was not weak or foolish.

Neither did those descriptions fit Reed Richards. True, sometimes he needed a kick in the butt to get his attention (particularly in his pre-engagement relationship with Sue), but the bottom line was that none of them could survive this wild ride their powers had laid out for them without Reed there to lead them, and there was no one on the planet Johnny would trust more readily with his life and Susie's.

If Doom had gotten anything right it was only that this group, these three, _were_ Johnny's family and he did need them. If that made them his Achilles' heel or impurity, well, so be it.

These insights, which countered what Sater's supposed---_no_, _not 'supposed'_---mind control program had told Johnny to think, brought a fresh surge of false anger and he struggled against it. He squinted at the three of them—Ben, Susie, and finally Reed Richards---and mumbled something under his breath that they couldn't hear.

Sue leaned down so she could listen to the quiet words, "What?"

Shaking, sweating, fighting, Johnny forced the words past Sater and Doom's mental barricades: "…trust…you."


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story._

**11**

Confusion.

Light. It blinked in chaotic patterns until the strobes gave him a headache.

Noise. The sound was like static from a garbled radio station. He wished whoever had the radio going would tune in the station or catch up with the satellite radio generation.

A brighter light. It came in a single flash, like staring into the high beams of an SUV on a dark desert road. Mercifully, it lasted only a few seconds.

Finally, there was silence. Blessed silence. The persistent, irritating buzzing noise that had filled his ears had stopped. The din of voices and their jumbled words that had filled his head for so long was now quiet.

Peace. Peace and silence. They were like old friends Johnny Storm hadn't seen in ages, and he wanted to stay in their company and simply rest. He felt like he hadn't rested in months. He was mentally exhausted and physically drained. So, he lingered there in the quiet and darkness for a little while---until the voices started in again.

They were different this time. They were not like the disembodied, contradictory thoughts and conflicting commands that had rattled uncontrollably around his mind and dictated his actions. These voices came from outside of his mind. They were real, they were familiar, and they were safe.

They were also dead set on dragging him out of his respite.

The more he paid attention to these voices, the more other sensations crept into his awareness. He was lying on a flat surface that couldn't be called comfortable. He couldn't move his arms because something—someone---had a tight hold on his right hand. Even with his eyes shut, he could tell there was light coming from somewhere, but it no longer pulsed in frenzied sequences. The only noises were the unrelenting voices and his own heartbeat. Maybe it was safe to open his eyes, he decided.

When he did, the first thing Johnny saw was metal. It surrounded him. It confined him. It was familiar in a way that filled him with dread. He knew what this box was…

Johnny remembered the dentist's office, and the dark-haired woman who called herself 'Reinhardt'. She had talked pleasantly, flirted, and her hand had brushed his shoulder when she left him. Something had stung him on the neck…and he'd awakened in this box.

Doom.

Doom had locked him in this box. Over the earphone, Doom had taunted, mocked, questioned, and threatened him with a dwindling supply of oxygen. Doom had wanted Johnny to concede defeat---not just him, his family too. Doom had pestered and plagued Johnny about 'need' and 'weakness' and more cryptic ramblings about a cocoon or chrysalis or some such b.s. Johnny had defied him at every turn…defied him in spirit, for he hadn't been able to do a damn thing to extricate himself from this prison. Sue, Reed, and Ben had worked on the problem of getting him out and Johnny had believed they would succeed. He'd trusted them to succeed right up to his last breath.

Those memories were clear. His recollections of what happened after the box were more surreal, almost like bad dreams. Johnny remembered the strange things he'd done, he just couldn't fathom what the hell had made him act the way he had acted.

The events came back to him, one-by-one, in quick succession. Anger had been the driving force, but Johnny didn't know what was making him feel such hostility, especially towards his family. He'd awakened at home in the Baxter Building after his release from this box, remembering nothing of the box, Dr. Reinhardt, or the dentist's office. He'd been filled with such depths of rage against all of them—Sue, Reed, Ben, even his long-missing father---that all he'd wanted was to kill them. He hadn't the power or desire to stop himself as he attacked them. He'd been full of scorn for their 'weaknesses', mentally calling them fools and betrayers, unworthy of their powers, jealous of the ease with which Johnny adapted to his own powers and of his popularity overshadowing them, trying to hold him back, hold him down. He'd intended to show them—by destroying their 'impenetrable' Baxter Building and destroying them---who was really the most powerful of their quartet. When he'd accomplished that, he'd only wanted to put distance between himself and the three of them.

Johnny didn't understand any of it. The memories of those feelings, of being so willingly out-of-control of his actions, horrified him now. _Was that a mental breakdown? Insanity? There was no other explanation for it._

He remembered knowing—somehow---that there was a plane waiting for him at a small airport in New Jersey. It was one of the private airports formerly owned by Von Doom Industries. The workers weren't paid to ask questions. They greeted him like he was Donald Trump and directed him to his waiting transportation. Equally baffling in retrospect was how Johnny had known the coordinates to Doom's hideaway in Latveria, but he'd found himself at an airfield near the palace. Doom himself had been waiting, openly welcoming back his former employee and congratulating the younger man for his new 'enlightened perspective'. He didn't remember anything about his first day in Latveria except for a few psychological tests performed at Doom's insistence by Dr. Sater…

_She called herself Dr. Reinhardt at the dentist's office._Nora Sater was the woman from the dentist's office. Johnny never made the connection because he hadn't remembered the abduction or imprisonment in Doom's metal cage.

Surreal memories became downright bizarre after that point. Doom had made Johnny his right-hand man. He had coached Johnny through days of practicing new uses for the younger man's powers, goaded him to stop reining in his abilities, admonished him not to hold back or be afraid to kill. The very notions would have been distasteful to Johnny if he were his normal self. In his bizarre, altered mental state, unleashing the full force of what his powers could do was more tempting than a free weekend in Cancun with every lady from the _Sports Illustrated_ _Swimsuit Edition._

Doom had given his 'protégé' a tour of the poorest of the poor regions of Latveria, shown Johnny the humanitarian projects Doom had undertaken in his homeland, explained his ambitions for their future…and introduced him to the displaced militias that roamed the forests and preyed on the small villages for survival. The militias were the remnants of the political powers that had ordered Doom's father's execution. Johnny had been whole-heartedly sympathetic to Doom wanting revenge for the destruction of his homeland and the loss of his family.

Sympathetic. To 'Doctor' Doom. Not only sympathetic, heeding and _respecting_ the man like he was freaking Obi-Wan Kenobi or something! Johnny had accepted Doom's ambitions, his justifications for everything from the murder of that soldier who'd attacked the village to the theft of the space rocks to Doom's proposal to use his fire to create a new global source of energy.

Sympathetic to Doom to the point of almost killing himself trying to enact his vile plans.

Heeding Doom, and that inexplicable hatred, to the point of almost killing his family—again and again—when they'd caught up with him, when they'd tried to warn him, when they'd tried to stop him. Now that the rage no longer clouded his judgment or muddled his perspective, Johnny was terrified by how easily he could have destroyed everyone he'd loved while in the grips of that madness.

_Was all of that a bad dream or had it really happened?_ Johnny desperately wished it had been a dream, but the fact that he was now sitting upright on a hard bunk inside that tin can Doom had fashioned said otherwise. He was wearing the tattered remains of the nasty gel suit over his blue uniform…there was a 'V' where his '4' emblem should have been. Someone had a hold on Johnny's right hand, so he reached up with his left hand and, with some effort, ripped the repulsive 'V' from his uniform.

The voices persisted, and now the hold on his right hand became a death grip. "Johnny? Are you all right? How do you feel?"

Johnny turned his head towards the voice and found Sue perched beside the uncomfortable bunk, hanging on to his hand like it was a matter of life and death. She was probably going to leave a mark in her enthusiasm, but he didn't pull his hand away. She was looking more than a little bit worried and a whole lot apprehensive. Johnny didn't blame her for the, not if half the stuff he remembered really happened. The memory was making him a whole lot apprehensive too.

He remembered the fight with Sue, remembered falling from the sky when his depleted powers finally gave out, and remembered waking up in this box the second time. She and Reed and Ben had said something about Doom and Sater and mind control and begged him to let them help. _Mind control. So, it wasn't 'insanity'. It was 'brainwashing.' That would explain a lot._ Anger began to well up inside him once more, this time from humiliation at Doom's having used mind tricks on him, having played him against his family. Johnny _hated_ being played for a fool.

Reed stood on the opposite side of the bunk, his mirroring Sue's concern. "Do you know where you are? How much do you remember?"

Ben was outside the cage, his massive form filling its doorway. "Matchstick---where'd ya hide the TiVo remote? I missed a whole week of _Oprah_!"

"One question at a time!" Johnny waved his free hand weakly. "What the hell happened!"

Reed was guarded with his optimism. Johnny sounded like himself, but after days of fighting the effects of Doom's program, Reed feared this was another ruse of the program. "You've been under Doom's control for the last eight days---thanks to this device that Dr. Sater created," he explained, gesturing to the box they currently occupied and the monitors and lights on its walls. "I'm sorry I didn't figure out what Victor was doing with this contraption in time to stop him."

Johnny was staring at them in confusion, but the absence of the malice that had been in her brother's tone and in his eyes since he'd fallen under Doom's control gave Sue her first real feeling of hope. "Reed's been trying to erase Dr. Sater's post-hypnotic commands for two days now. What can you remember?"

"I remember everything…so weird…" _Two days?_ If that were true, then there was nothing but a big, blank spot in his memory where those two days should have been. It seemed like ten minutes ago that they'd been arguing with Johnny about post-hypnotic commands and allowing Reed to try to counter Dr. Sater's program...

…Dr. Sater…

"She's dead." Johnny had seen her body. Doom had killed her. Killed her because---

Reed heard guilt in those two words. There was nothing for the boy to feel guilty about. "Victor was trying to keep her from helping you."

"Nora helped you? How'd you pull that off?" Johnny tried to stand. To his surprise, he found his ankles were bound to the bunk---a precaution in case Reed hadn't quite unscrambled his mind, Johnny knew. Reed, Sue, and Ben exchanged glances and silently made the mutual decision. There was no real way to be one hundred percent sure that all the post-hypnotic commands were gone except to trust Johnny at some point and see whether he ran or attacked. Reed and Sue opened the cuffs. Gingerly, Johnny stood, testing his wobbly legs to make sure they'd support him. He ended up leaning against the bunk.

"Apparently, Victor earned Sater's cooperation by promising a power plant for her province. He needed you to---" Reed explained.

"---To power the thermal cells," Johnny finished. This whole brainwashing crap, almost killing Johnny, almost getting him to kill his family, was just a way for Doom and the doc to steal his powers. The doc had helped Doom turn Johnny against his family. Johnny had liked the woman, damn it, and she'd been lying to him, tricking him!

Lying to him was one thing. Murdering a woman, even one like Doctor Sater, was another. Doom was going to have to answer to Johnny for both of those things next time he crossed paths with the Human Torch. But there was something else. Those cells weren't intended for the power plant. No, of course they weren't. Doom had wanted…a bomb, a bomb to use in his revenge against Kubeka's men. Doom had put one of those thermal cells into a bomb, given it to that militia guy, and sent him to destroy the guerrillas' camp in the forests. Doom had tried to use Johnny's powers as a weapon to murder more people. He was going to pay for that, too.

Johnny _must_ have been brainwashed if he'd bought into Doom's justifications for his vendetta, if he'd embraced that same hatred for the militiamen. There was no other way Johnny would have believed Doom gave a damn a bout those villagers or ever meant to help people with those thermal cells. Was there? Did Johnny despise those guerrilla creeps because they kept trashing the Latverians' homes and terrorizing the people? Or because Doom and Sater's computer's screwed with his brain and told him to hate them?

"We got the cell that Doom set off in that militia compound," Sue reassured her brother. "Ben found the other one. You don't have to worry about Doom using them on anyone else."

That was some consolation, but it didn't erase the memories of those images Reed had shown Johnny of the aftermath of the blast. _Thank God Sue had shown up when she did._ But, he'd taken two prisoners for Doom from the ranks of those guerrillas. Johnny might have been on autopilot, but he still remembered Doom interrogating both of them…the gunshot, the blood. His stomach did a flip-flop thinking about it. What was that kid's name? "What about that other guy? What happened to him?" he wanted to know.

"Other guy?" Reed frowned.

"The other militia guy Doom had prisoner." Johnny wracked his brain for a name.

_"__Rugel Tollen---as Mufale and Gorshen's 'trusted messenger', if I command you to take your knife and put it in Ambassador Gorshen's throat, will you do it?" _

"_I will."_

"Holy crap…" Johnny mumbled in renewed fear.

"_Now_ what?" Ben asked. Johnny had just turned pale as a ghost, so this wasn't going to be good news.

Johnny looked at Reed. "Doom wanted to know if this other soldier…Tollen, Rugel Tollen, that was the guy's name…would kill 'Ambassador Gorshen' for him. It's a safe bet that Doom used the doc's mind control game on him, too."

"What does Doom want with Gorshen?" Sue asked. Johnny must be talking about that second soldier that she and Reed had seen over the surveillance system. She retrieved the palmtop and began calling up the transmissions from their communicators, which the Warbird automatically recorded. Maybe they'd captured an image of that guerrilla.

"Ambassador Gorshen was Colonel Gorshen back when soldiers weren't the good guys in Latveria. He's been helping the men who killed Doom's father," Johnny told them.

_Therefore he was on Doom's hit list just like the folks at the mansion,_ they all filled in the blanks. Maybe that was the reason Doom had killed Nora, Reed speculated, to delay Johnny's recovery, since he was the only one who could warn them about the plot. It was a coldly effective way to forestall the Fantastic Four from finding out about his next target long enough to pull off an assassination by proxy…and it worked. Doom had a two-day head start on them. The Ambassador might already be dead and they just hadn't heard about it. They had been ignoring news and requests from the media for explanations of the explosion in Latveria until Reed could free Johnny from Sater's program. If there was any good news, it was that they had taken the thermal cells away from Doom. A bad situation would be worse if Victor used a weapon made from Johnny's powers to assassinate a Latverian official.

"I'll put in a call to warn the Latverian and American embassies," Reed said. "I'm sure they're eager to speak to me anyway. Hopefully, the Ambassador is somewhere out of Victor's reach right now. If not, they can track him down faster than we can." He paused to clap Johnny's on the shoulder. "Good to have you back, son." Then he ducked out of the box and rushed to start making calls.

Ben grunted, "I get a feelin' we're gonna have to check in on this Gorshen guy ourselves. I'd better get the Warbird ready ta fly again…" Thing smirked at the Human Torch, unable to resist a dig "…since someone's had ta get these machines workin' while others were takin' a siesta."

"A siesta---!" Johnny started to protest, until he comprehended, "---you finished the Warbird without me?"

"What? Did ya expect Susie ta carry us to Latveria and back?" Thing grinned, enjoying the indignation pouring from the younger man. Johnny wasn't going to put up with the three of them treating him with kids' gloves for long anyway. Ben figured the best way to get the Johnny back to normal was to get right back to giving him a little shit. "Put in all the extras to: Radar cloaking device, cup holders, XM radio…amazin' what I can get done without the non-stop rap music and yakkin' makin' my ears bleed…"

"What ears?" Johnny shot back, searching for something in the small cage that he could throw at Ben.

"And don't forget---you're fixin' that hole in the lab's floor, Sparky." With that, the Thing retreated, sniggering as he went.

Sue hid her own grin from her brother. "In other words," she translated for Ben, "Welcome back, he's been worried about you. Fair warning: he's still a little cranky about you putting him in that deep freeze. He's been making a list of ways to get even and they all involve Reed's liquid nitrogen chamber."

_Deep freeze_? _Oh right, that new trick Doom had taught him._ Johnny winced at the memory of how many different ways he'd been manipulated into attacking them. "Sue, did I---" He needed to ask the question, but hesitated for fear of the answer. "—when I was—you know, out in la-la land---did I hurt any of you--?"

"No." Sue's tone left no room for doubt. "And before you say it, you don't have anything to be sorry about. What happened was because of Victor trying to play God again." And because of Doom and Sater's misguided belief that a human mind, a human soul, could be reprogrammed like they were rewriting a hard drive. She wondered what other lies Doom had put in her brother's mind while he was under the psychopath's thumb…or maybe she didn't want to know. "Besides, I've felt a little out of control myself since this started," she admitted.

Now that it appeared Johnny was getting back to normal, the past week and a half was crashing down on her rapidly. Her hands were shaking, which Johnny also noticed. He grabbed both her hands and pulled her into a hug. Sue wasn't the trembling sort; he'd scared her pretty badly. Johnny tried to lighten the mood, to make her feel better, "Thanks for kicking my ass, Susie."

He felt her grin. "That's what I'm here for."

When she pulled back, the light reflecting off her engagement ring drew Johnny's eye to the stone. It looked disconcertingly like that tiny meteorite Doom had made him power up during that first test…

_Wait a minute._

Johnny was still hanging on to her fingers and his gaze was fixated on the engagement ring. Sue smiled, "What? The wedding? Don't worry. You didn't miss it. I can't get married without my brother there to give me away and---"

He interrupted: "Sue, how many of those space rocks did you say you found?"

There was a short list of things Reed found less pleasant than dealing with bureaucrats, politicians, or diplomats---root canals, poison oak rashes, or decompression illness might be more excruciating. Maybe. In his present condition, he would not have chosen to finally face the wrath of irate Latverian and U.S. officials were it not a matter of life or death. After the difficult week of intense planning, broken sleep, turbulent emotions, and then two more days battling Sater's program non-stop, Reed was more tired than he'd ever been in his life and in no shape for the mental and linguistic gymnastics he'd need in order to deal with these officials.

The man on Reed's computer screen now was definitely a politician---the General of Something-Something Latverian Security (Reed was too worn out to recall his own grandmother's name at the moment, much less memorize the man's lengthy job title). General Penscik, a short and stocky man wearing thick glasses and a cap bearing a patch in the shape of the Latverian flag, was on the top run of the security ladder at Latveria's embassy in the U.S., that's what mattered. It had taken twenty minutes of dealing with clerks and bureaucrats who'd been repeating demands for the Fantastic Four's surrender for crimes against Latveria just to get Penscik on the line.

The hard part was convincing Penscik to stop issuing threats and listen to what Reed had to say. Reed supposed the Fantastic Four's two-day disappearance had given the man plenty of time to get on a good case of cranky. Reed was careful to keep his tone level and respectful. It would do him no good to further antagonize the official. "I'm trying to warn you, the Ambassador's life is in danger. This man, Rugel Tollen, is probably already targeting Mr. Gorshen."

"I'm aware of your perspective on this subject. Now, you must see it from mine. Victor Von Doom is one of Latveria's most revered humanitarians, Mr. 'Fantastic', is it?" Personally, Penscik found the American's appointed title quite narcissistic. "I'm not inclined to believe that he's plotting the murder of his countryman. Such an act would be treasonous…"

"Doom's already murdered his 'countrymen'. He would have killed more people if we hadn't t---"

Penscik saw the chance to bring up the subject of more concern to him, and he took it: "Perhaps you're referring to the explosion at the Arvizu manor in Chendryn? I'm sure you're aware that your 'Human Torch' and 'Invisible Woman'…" Penscik wrinkled his nose at those monikers as well. "…have been implicated in that crime by survivors at the scene…"

Ben's voice boomed from behind Reed. "What! Ya been sniffin' too much liquid paper, Mister, if ya think they'd----"

The general only peered at Ben from over the tops of his glasses, then turned back to Reed. He pointed to the folder, the report on the Chendryn incident, which was spread on the desk in front of him. "I'm told that dozens of innocent citizens were burned alive in that explosion," he raised his voice to drown out Ben's protest.

Now Reed raised his voice, "That's a lie!"

"Your Human Torch was seen by people in nearby villages attacking that manor, setting outlying buildings on fire, deliberately cutting off escape routes---" Penscik read from his pages. "We've also been advised that he attacked you and your home, vandalized a scientific research firm called Selva-Uitti, and stole property from their laboratories. That's a side issue. Getting back to Chendryn, your Invisible Woman was seen using her shield to----"

"---to save lives! To contain the explosion----"

"---the explosion your Human Torch caused!"

"The explosion which Doom's weapons caused! We don't know that anyone died in that explosion, but if Sue hadn't contained that blast, you can believe every living thing for a two square mile radius would have died very horrible deaths. As for your 'innocent bystanders', that manor was a base of operations for the militia that's been attacking villages in that province. Maybe you've heard of them? They're what's left of General Kubeka's regime."

The minister fell silent. Was he surprised by the news or surprised that Reed knew about the deposed leader and his renegades? Seconds ticked by, and then Penscik said something to an aide who was off-camera. Then he cleared his throat and addressed Reed once more, "Our relief workers found no soldiers at the scene, no weapons of any kind, nothing that would indicate those particular criminals were ever in the area. No explosive devices were recovered."

"We have the device," Reed informed him.

Penscik raised his eyebrow. "Do you?"

Reed mentally kicked himself for what he'd just said. "I can explain---"

"Perhaps all of you would like to return to Latveria and explain your aggressive actions. If you do, I can promise you a fair hearing."

_Hearing?_ "What? Are we criminals now?"

"Unless you can prove what you've said, yes," Penscik confirmed. "As it stands, if any of you attempts to enter Latveria, unless it's in the custody of our authorities, you will be arrested on sight. You should also know that, in deference to your---unique---abilities, our military and police officials have been authorized to use lethal force in apprehending you."

"You gotta be kiddin' me," Ben said with disgusted.

Penscik shook his head. "I can assure you that I'm not."

Reed could send the Latverian government copies of the recordings made by Sue's communicator. It would have proved the presence of Kubeka's guerrillas, would have shown the Invisible Woman using her powers to enclose the flames, would have shown that the blast hadn't been a massacre at all (much less a massacre of innocent farmers).

But the recordings would also show Johnny attacking the mansion and would have shown his flames cutting off escape routes. Reed could have edited the more damning segments of the recordings, but such tampering would have been easily discovered upon review and would inevitably cause more accusations of deception on the Fantastic Four's part.

Until Reed could provide proof that Dr. Sater's program had been the catalyst for the Human Torch's bizarre actions, Reed had to be careful what information he handed out to any government. He would no sooner hand over Doom's thermal bomb or copies of Sater's post-hypnotic program to _anyone_ than he would hand over a nuclear bomb or biological weapon. And, at the moment, without handing over the bomb and/or the program, Reed had almost no way to prove his assertions or Johnny and Sue's innocence.

Counting to ten before he spoke, Reed answered, "Mr. Penscik, I'm sending you a photo of Rugel Tollen. He will kill Ambassador Gorshen on Doom's behalf if you don't take precautions." Reed transmitted the information to the embassy's computers.

Penscik studied the image. "But, you can't tell me why Von Doom would be targeting the Ambassador?" he asked. "Or is it that you _won't_ tell me?"

Reed couldn't accuse the Ambassador of anything, not on the word of Rugel Tollen, a man under the influence of Sater's program, a man who'd made his confession under extreme duress. If Gorshen was innocent, the accusation alone might ruin his career. "Does it matter why? You can ask Rugel if you catch him."

The official drummed his fingers on the top of his desk and pursed his lips, pondering the matter. "I will convey your warning to the proper authorities in Latveria and to the Ambassador, Dr. Richards. They will decide whether your advice warrants action on our part," he promised. "But, consider my offer. Our government would be much more convinced of your innocence in the Chendryn matter if you return to Latveria voluntarily rather than by extradition…and a request for extradition _will_ be filed if you do not. I'm sure you'll be hearing from your own government very soon."

With that, Penscik broke the connection, leaving Reed and Ben staring at a blank screen.

"I think that hat is cuttin' off the flow of blood to his brain," the Thing said.

Reed fumed. Victor had used Johnny and Sater to create two lethal weapons, had forced Johnny to do his dirty work just to see if Sater's program worked, had stolen Johnny's powers, and now Johnny and Sue were framed for Doom's crimes. He was almost certain that Doom was behind these 'witnesses' to Sue and Johnny's actions (farmers in the isolated mountain areas _might_ know Johnny, judging by what he'd said of his time in Latveria, but they would never have known who Sue was). Not to mention two countries were now convinced that the Human Torch had flipped his lid. _At this rate, we'll all be in front of a Latverian firing squad by the end of the week._

Ben saw Reed's face and knew what his old friend would say. "We're going ta Latveria anyway, right?"

Johnny had told them about the third meteorite. They couldn't leave it there for Doom to play with, whether it was infused with Johnny's powers or not. Neither could they let Doom murder Gorshen, regardless of what crimes the man may or may not be guilty of. Then there was Nora Sater's program to worry about. What she'd given Reed was a copy, which meant Doom still had the original program in his computers, ready for use on the next human guinea pig. They were going to have to find a way to destroy however many copies were left.

_Another day, another impossible 'to do' list_, Ben mused.

Reed nodded. "We're going."

Ben regretted the need, but he had to ask: "All of us?"

Was Reed sure that Johnny was recovered from the post-hypnotic commands enough to go back to Latveria this soon? Was there a chance that Reed had overlooked an implanted command that might be triggered by Doom? Reed had asked himself those questions, too. He'd worked for two solid days to free Johnny from the program---it hadn't been a task that could be stopped once begun. Sater had been honest about the booby traps embedded within the program. Each time Reed triggered on trying to counter the p.h.c.s, Johnny had either attacked them or nearly injured himself trying to prevent himself from unleashing a supernova. It had been an ordeal for all of them. Reed prayed that it was over---but there simply weren't any guarantees. He was ninety-eight percent certain that the p.h.c.s were gone…it was that two percent margin of error that scared him.

Taking Johnny to Latveria would be (pardon the expression) a trial by fire. Before it was over, they'd know if Doom still had any influence over the Human Torch's action. They needed Johnny's help. If the meteorite _was_ somehow infused with his powers, there might be a way for Johnny to defuse it. Johnny knew the layout of Doom's lair better than the Warbird's computers did. Besides that, the most wrong in these twisted events had been inflicted upon Johnny. He had the right to try to clear his own name, to set things right. It's what any of them would have wanted if they were in his place…

…and they were a team. A family. They were at their best when they worked together.

"All of us," Reed answered.


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story._

**12**

"Ambassador? My apologies, but there's a matter requiring your immediate attention."

All eyes in the room turned to the young man standing---quite meek beneath the sudden scrutiny---in the doorway of the office that served Latveria's Ambassador on the rare occasions when he was in his home country. Brescia had been Gorshen's personal secretary for six years. He recognized the representatives from China, Africa, and France and a few of the other dignitaries who were in conference with Gorshen. He would not disrupt such a gathering if it weren't supremely important. Fortunately, the Ambassador knew as much.

Trusting in his assistant's judgment, Gorshen made his apologies to his fellow diplomats and ducked from the office. Brescia directed him to a conference room, where a phone line blinked for his attention. "These meetings can grow tiresome, but we still must be hospitable." It was as close as the Ambassador would come to rebuking the interruption. "What was so urgent, Brescia, that it couldn't wait?"

"I was only told to bring you this…" His assistant handed him a folder as Gorshen settled into a chair. "…and to tell you that General Penscik from our embassy in the United States is holding for you." Brescia gave the Ambassador the required courtesy bow and moved to wait by the door, a discreet distance from the table.

As Brescia watched, the printed message and photos caused the normally imperturbable diplomat to turn quite pale. Gorshen's face remained impassive, but he pulled a pipe from his coat pocket and put it to his lips. He had given up smoking several years ago, but still fidgeted with his old pipe when he was nervous or mulling a particularly daunting problem. Whatever was going on was very bad, the aide knew, if it gave the Ambassador that much cause for concern.

Before he picked up the phone to speak to the general, Gorshen instructed: "Brescia---you'll need to reschedule our guests, and have my personal transportation standing by. I'd prefer to travel by helicopter this time."

A few hours later, the field that served as landing pad for the embassy was abuzz with activity. The Ambassador preferred to travel by helicopter whenever possible, a habit born during Latveria's unstable transitional days of decades past when motorcades shuttling officials were a favorite target of Kubeka's renegade guerrillas and other militias. Today, the urgency of the situation justified air travel. The sooner Gorshen put distance between himself and whatever foe—Victor Von Doom or American 'superheroes'---sought his life, the better. He did not know this 'Rugel Tollen', and knew Von Doom only by his impressive reputation, but lack of acquaintance was no guarantee that the men weren't targeting him for their own personal agendas.

Gorshen had been planning a trip to France anyway, so he decided to simply depart a few days early and leave it to security in Latveria to track down any would-be assassins. Prudence had kept him alive. It helped him bury regrettable pieces of his past where they couldn't be found (until now). It helped him carve out a place for himself when Latveria's democracy was still new. It served him well in his diplomatic duties. He didn't plan to stop erring on the side of sensibility after all these years.

With only cursory nods of acknowledgement, he swept past the crews who were preparing his helicopter for flight. He saw police and armed forces sweeping the grounds and surrounding areas for signs of any intruders and knew the nearby buildings were being cleared. It gave him no sense of safety. Gorshen was more concerned with getting airborne as quickly as possible.

Gorshen recognized the pilot---Captain Rogan, Latverian Air Force, trained in Great Britain---who was giving the aircraft a visual inspection. Mechanics and ground crew handed him charts, while another man in uniform passed along the paperwork and Rogan's orders. The latter offered the pilot a handshake for good-luck and wished him God speed.

Rogan climbed into his seat to find his diplomat passenger already settled into the rear of the helicopter, eager to be leaving. "Good evening, Ambassador," he greeted.

Gorshen managed a distracted, "Good evening, Captain."

The Ambassador was a bit green around the gills, Rogan noticed. He didn't blame the guy---he definitely wouldn't want a death threat from Von Doom if half the stories he had heard were true. The pilot smiled a bit as he donned his headset and ran through the pre-flight checks, working as quickly as he could without compromising safety. "Don't worry, sir, we'll have you out of here soon."

Rogan tapped his earphones, noticing that his communications were unusually garbled by static and interference…and the lights on the console were blinking when they shouldn't be. He cursed. A garbled headset had its upside---Rogan wouldn't have to listen to the Ambassador's long-winded anecdotes and speeches. However, the pilot would not fly if everything on his ship wasn't in perfect working order. If the equipment was on the fritz, the Ambassador was likely going to blow his top. The erratic blinking of the lights was more worrisome. He was going to have to have the mechanics take another look, whether Gorshen was happy about the delay or not…

Then his earphones emitted an ear-piercing screech of static. At the same instant, the cockpit lights flared to blinding luminescence. Rogan cursed again, unprepared for the double assault. When the light abated, he tried to rub away the spots that now danced in his vision.

"Something wrong, Captain?" Gorshen asked from the rear of the helicopter, unable to see what was happening up front.

The pilot blinked. He'd been about to do something important, but what? Rogan tried to recall, but static over his headset made it difficult to think clearly. The noise was almost like a voice in his ears. His eyes were drawn to the dance of lights on his controls. Their pattern had a calming effect, almost hypnotic. _What…oh, yes, the Ambassador. He was supposed to deliver the Ambassador…_

"Nothing, sir. We'll take off in just a moment," Rogan promised. He never noticed the small box tucked beneath his seat, the box that orchestrated the whisper of the white noise in his ears or the dance of the lights in front of his eyes.

Unnoticed in the commotion, hidden beneath the baggy coveralls and helmet of the flight maintenance crew, and unchallenged thanks to his identification (thoughtfully provided by the Ambassador himself months ago so that his messenger could freely travel between Gorshen and Mufale), Rugel Tollen watched the helicopter life into the sky. The first of the tasks appointed to him had been completed, but he felt no pleasure or pride---no emotions at all, in fact. He'd finish his duties with robotic efficiency, never questioning his orders, and without regard for his own life. He was expendable as long as Doctor Doom's purposes were accomplished.

Tollen would remain hidden for a while longer. Gorshen must be kept running like a cowardly dog from the threat to his life, at least for now. Thirty minutes were needed, thirty cycles of the program being fed through the headset and panel lights, before the pilot would be well under the command of Doom. When the amount of time desired by Doom had passed, Tollen would reveal his presence and allow the embassy's security to neutralize the threat to their Ambassador. By that time, the plans Doom had set in motion would be unstoppable.

Flying usually calmed his nerves, but nothing was helping soothe the agitation Johnny Storm was feeling. He'd moved to the co-pilot's seat, needing a break from Sue's hovering and Reed's watchful eye. It was impossible to collect his thoughts with one of them asking how he was feeling every two minutes and maintaining a vigil like he might freak out and attack them again at any second. He knew they meant well, but the non-stop babysitting was starting to make him feel like a lab rat. Johnny wasn't feeling any more sure of himself at the moment than they were. Truth was, he didn't know if he might wig out on them either. It was unsettling for him to think that he might not be able to trust his own mind right now.

Luckily, when he head for the front of the plane, they took the hint and let him have his space (though he could still feel their eyes on the back of his head, he ignored it). Johnny hoped checking out the completed plane might settle his nerves, but nothing was easing his mind---and the flashing lights of the control panel reminded him too much of the strobes in that playpen Doom and Sater had locked him in.

Reed had set the plane's radar to patch into Latveria's scant satellite network. Johnny didn't want to know how the mega-genius had managed that hack. A small screen in front of Johnny displayed several blips: Two were military jets. The other was the transport carrying Ambassador Gorshen to safety. The Warbird's computer was monitoring the flight for the first sign of trouble.

Lost in his own musings, absently watching the computer track the blips, Johnny nearly jumped out of his skin when Ben came up behind him and bragged about the Warbird: "Pretty slick, ain't she? If you're good, maybe Daddy will let you drive on the way home." He gave the younger man a grin of pure evil. The Thing had been waiting months to use Johnny's own words on the kid.

"Slick? Are you nuts? These controls aren't even close to the specs we made, she flies like a drunk elephant with a Brinks truck on its back, and I don't know what the hell _this_ is…" He popped open a compartment beside the co-pilot's seat and glared at the tangle of wires and fuses jumbled beneath. "…Yeah, that's an in-flight accident waiting to happen."

"It's called design improvement, Matchstick."

"You wanna improve something, start with that mug of yours," Johnny groused. The truth was, considering the rush job Ben must have done to finish her, the Warbird was a beautiful lady. Of course, after they returned to the Baxter Building and Johnny got to show Ben what _real_ 'design improvement' was, she'd be a knockout. She'd separate into four smaller vehicles, just like the original designs had called for. She might even get a new name to go with her improvements, something that didn't call to mind a Klingon space ship from _Star Trek_. "And I notice the only seat big enough for _you_ is the pilot's chair. That's convenient. I suppose I could just strap you to the nose cone and try out the big chair for myself."

Ben gleefully made a show of settling into the oversized seat of honor in question, enjoying the younger man's petulant glare. Ben was willing to bicker all the way to Latveria and back if it kept Johnny from having too much time to think or to start moping or, worse of all, to start second-guessing himself.

"If you touched my bikes while I was gone, I swear I'll find an industrial-sized rock crusher and drop you in it," Johnny threatened.

"Someone's got a bug up his butt. Not getting' antsy are ya?" Ben tried to make it sound like an off the cuff question, but his underlying concern was still apparent.

All bravado, Johnny snapped his fingers. Instantly, fire covered his hands up to the cuff of his blue uniform. "Nope. I've got me a nice long list of things that Doom and I are going to chat about when I see him," he answered. _And when we're done talking, maybe I'll lock Doom in that metal box of his. Or maybe I'll just drop it on him…_

Ben snorted at that, "Anythin' that Tin Man has to say about anythin' is a festerin' heap of garbage of the mouth."

_Well, that was succinctly put. Ben always did have a way of cutting through the b.s. right to the point._ "You're a real poet, Pebbles, know that?" Johnny grinned.

There _was_ something important that Johnny needed to bring up, something that he needed to resolve before they crossed swords with Doom again. He just didn't know how to broach the subject. He knew Ben was the one to ask; Reed or Sue would hit the roof if Johnny mentioned it to them---or they might decide to leave him behind when they took on Doom. If any of them would get where Johnny was coming from, it would be Ben.

Johnny glanced over his shoulder to check that the rest of the family was out of earshot before he spoke up: "I know Reed's not if sure he got all of Doc Sater's commands out of my head yet."

Ben didn't confirm or deny it. He simply watched the controls with exaggerated concentration and waited to hear what the younger man had to say.

"If he didn't, then I don't want you to let Doom use me to hurt anyone else, especially not you guys," Johnny finished.

Ben understood what the kid was asking. Having mulled this subject for over a week, he knew if their situations were reversed, he'd be sitting here asking the same thing from the rest of them. They could stop Johnny front hurting bystanders, even if it was only by the skin of their teeth. But, after facing that situation again and again this week, Ben knew none of them could willingly, deliberately hurt one of their own family.

"Not gonna happen," Ben grunted. The kid looked a bit dismayed by the answer, so the Thing hurriedly clarified: "I mean, Vic couldn't turn ya into Mini-D with Doc Sater's entire bag of tricks to work with, and he ain't gonna do it now…"

"They've got Rugel Tollen!" Reed broke in on their conversation. For a man delivering good news, Reed sure didn't sound happy, they noticed.

He reached past Ben and Johnny to patch the Latverian military frequencies through to the cockpit. Johnny had to fight the impulse to cover his ears when static briefly popped over the speakers. Luckily, Reed hadn't seen him wince.

"Embassy security caught him breaking into Gorshen's office. They shot him. He didn't even try to fight." Reed frowned. Tollen would have been a witness who could have corroborated what happened to Johnny. Doom had silenced him via hypnotically commanded suicide and they all knew it. He'd been ordered to die before capture, just as Baraga had been ordered to suicide bomb that mansion…just as Johnny would have been ordered to die powering more of Doom's thermal cells if they hadn't interrupted the task and saved him. The only reason Doom would sacrifice Tollen before Gorshen was dead was if someone else was the real assassin. The embassy might believe the threat was neutralized, but Reed didn't believe it for an instant.

Ben checked the radar. Over the speaker, their pal Penscik could be heard relaying the 'good news' to Gorshen's flight. There was no response from the helicopter's pilot or the Ambassador. The pilots of the escort jets requested confirmation from Gorshen's flight.

Seconds later, the sounds of something exploding roared over the speakers and the two escort jets disappeared from the radar. _I was afraid of that,_ Reed slammed his fist against the console. He called up the sensor readings. "Surface to air missiles. They weren't a thermal cell explosion," he said, and the Human Torch breathed a sigh of some relief…but only some.

The helicopter changed course, heading for the mountains. "Either that flyboy's got no sense of direction…" Ben said.

Johnny finished the thought: "…Or Doom got to him."

When repeated calls for the pilot to stop and turn back went unanswered, Penscik could be heard requesting more military jets to intercept the helicopter.

"I know we're number one on Latveria's Most Wanted list, but we're closer and we can get to that chopper faster than those jets," Thing suggested.

"Faster?" Johnny raised an eyebrow.

Ben smirked. "Design improvements." He turned to their leader. "Whad'dya want to do, Reed?"

"Why have we changed course?"

Gorshen's questions seemed to fall on deaf ears. His pilot, normally so reliable that he'd become one of a few whom the Ambassador trusted with his life, sat like a statue. The Ambassador had been informed by mobile phone that the man who'd threatened his life had been neutralized. Captain Rogan would have been informed as well. As a precaution, in case the would-be assassin had not been acting alone (for there were some rumors that Doom had arranged the service of one of those American, what did they call themselves, 'superheroes', who might have been behind the destruction of the Arvizu post in Chendryn), the two military crafts escorting Gorshen would stay with him as far as the Latverian border.

The Ambassador already knew that Rugel Tollen would not be the only one coming after him, not if it was true that Victor Von Doom had dispatched the killer. What 'Doctor' Doom wanted with him, Gorshen did not know. How Doom had coerced Mufale's men to turn against him, Gorshen did not know. Gorshen knew who had occupied the Arvizu manor. If such information had been uncovered, then Doom also knew of Gorshen's unfortunate association with the remnants of General Kubeka's regime. In the space of a few hours, the Ambassador's world had collapsed around him and his lifelong aspirations had come to naught.

This had always been a possible scenario lurking in the back of his mind. Extricating himself from Kubeka's network after the change of government, however, had been impossible. Anyone remotely associated with the former regime had been jailed or executed. Gorshen's minor place among Kubeka's soldiers, his part in their crimes, would have been enough to condemn him. Kubeka, and Mufale after him, had blackmailed the Ambassador into serving their needs in exchange for keeping his secrets for him. Treason was treason, and the fact that he had been blackmailed might commute his sentence from death to life in prison, but neither outcome was palatable to Gorshen. He accepted in his heart that, once he was safely on French soil, he would need to disappear and never return to his homeland.

If he ever reached French soil, for as soon as the embassy had notified Gorshen that the threat was over, the helicopter had changed its course. They were heading for the mountains, almost the opposite direction from their original destination. Gorshen pulled on a headset when Rogan ignored his questions and barked at the pilot: "Where the devil are you going! I demand that you---"

There was a streak of light outside the helicopter. Gorshen saw it from the corner of his eye, and just as he turned to the window, the military jets escorting his helicopter exploded into balls of fire. The shock he felt witnessing the sight was made the worse knowing that his own aircraft would most likely perish within a few seconds in the same terrible manner.

That was the moment when a new voice crackled over the headset. "Temper, temper, Ambassador. A man who can hardly serve as a diplomat without learning to master his rage."

Gorshen didn't ask who was speaking or how he'd patched into their communicators. He didn't have to. _So, the American had been telling the truth about who was hunting me._ "Doctor Von Doom?"

"Just Doctor Doom now, Ambassador. 'Doctor Von Doom' was my father. He died on the slopes of the Chendryn mountains…the ones you should be able to see outside your window right now," Doom said cordially as if he were a tour guide and not waiting to murder the man in the helicopter.

If Rogan was hearing this, he didn't react. Gorshen realized then that Tollen had merely been a diversion from the real threat, the real assassin. _Rogan had always been so loyal. How had Doom gotten to him?_

"You knew my father, Ambassador," Doom continued. "You served the man who ordered his death…and you still protect the men who served with you back then."

That provided Gorshen with the answer to why Doom wanted him dead. Gorshen, in his past life as Colonel Gorceac, had seen many people in Chendryn killed…a shameful number by his own hands. He could not recall many names or faces, having deliberately blocked that part of his life from his memory. He dared not say so to the madman holding Gorshen's life in his hands.

"Before you waste what time you have with denials, your friends have already explained your detestable arrangement with Mufale and his militia in great detail. The reason we're having this conversation privately is that public indictment of you would embarrass Latveria's government and stain the reputation of our country in the eyes of the world," Doom explained. He dispensed with cordiality and his tone became like ice when he added: "And because a trial would never end with justice for the genocide which you and your comrades unleashed upon our people."

It was a feeble hope, but Gorshen offered: "Name your price."

Instead, Doom pronounced sentence on him: "Blood is only repaid in blood, Ambassador. Captain, if you would be so kind, show Mr. Gorceac to the door."

"Can't you fly any faster?"

"You're not exactly light as a feather, Pebbles."

The two superheroes couldn't travel incognito---a human fireball and a human boulder---even in the daylight. By night, the trail of fire that Johnny left in his wake as he glided through the air was like a giant arrow pointing them out to whoever was lurking in the forest below. The rockets that had taken out Gorshen's escorts had been fired from these hills, from somewhere among those trees. If Johnny were to wager, he'd guess that some of those guerrillas who'd disappeared from the mansion before Latverian security could round them up were now (unwillingly) under Doom's command, courtesy of Sater's program.

This meant that Johnny and Ben had to watch out for the good guys (Latverian armed forces who still might try to shoot them out of the sky) along with Mufale's old buddies.

_And it should be real easy to dodge missiles and rockets while I'm carrying a human boulder,_ the Human Torch thought. Ben's bulk as he hung in Johnny's grasp was creating a nice drag that slowed the Human Torch a bit and hampered his maneuverability. On the other hand, Johnny imagined the Thing would get real hacked off if he tried any fancy aerobatics and lost his grip on Ben. Johnny tried to make up for the loss of maneuverability by flying close to the tree line, trying to present as small a visible target a possible to any unfriendly folks in the area.

No such luck. Before Johnny and Ben were half way to Doom's lair, they heard the crack of gunshots. Bullets whizzed through the air around them, close enough for Johnny to see some passing through his flames. "Whoah!" he shouted.

Ben wouldn't have minded giving whoever was taking pot shots at them a fight, but time was too critical. They didn't know if that for sure if that third thermal cell or space rock or whatever Doom called it had absorbed any of Johnny's powers, but they couldn't take the chance.

That danger was one reason Reed had sent Johnny and Ben to Doom's palace while he and Sue went to help that Latverian diplomat. There was also the possibility that the Latverian army would shoot Johnny on sight, convinced as they were that he'd been behind that attack on the mansion. Since the armed forces would be charging to Gorshen's rescue, Ben and Johnny also suspected that Reed had probably wanted to put distance between them and the Human Torch until he got this mess straightened out. Sue could hide herself if she had to.

If Reed was afraid that some undiscovered post-hypnotic command might make Johnny go off on the Ambassador, he wasn't about to say so. Johnny hoped that wasn't one of Reed's reasons. It was bad enough that he doubted himself right now; he needed his family to believe in him…

The Human Torch dropped closer to the ground, as close as he could get without igniting a forest fire (not that there was too much danger of that with the snow packed deep on the mountain). He wasn't about to toss off any fireballs, in case it was the good guys mistakenly shooting at him. He was in plenty of hot water with the Latverian government as it was. They were so low that a few treetops slapped at the dangling Ben.

"Hey!" he yelped. "Watch the trees!"

"Nag, nag, nag," Johnny joked back.

"Captain, if you would be so kind, show Mr. Gorceac to the door."

Rogan swiftly unfastened his harness. The Ambassador knew he would be dead within a few seconds, and his mind scrambled for a plan to save his own life. If he overpowered the pilot (as Rogan was a trained soldier, that was unlikely), Gorshen did not know how to fly the helicopter. However, he would prefer trying to wrestle the aircraft to the ground than face the death Doom had set in motion for him at Rogan's hands.

Gorshen had not traveled unprepared for problems. Diplomats never carried weapons, but when the Ambassador learned he was target and by whom and why, he had privately decided that it was better to take his safety into his own hands. He was glad that he'd made that choice now, as his hands slipped into the briefcase on his lap and his fingers curled around the small pistol hidden inside.

Rogan climbed from the cockpit into the cabin just as Gorshen pulled the weapon from his briefcase. The fight was over before it began; Rogan tore the gun from the Ambassador's grasp before Gorshen squeezed off a single shot. The pilot slid the doors open and pitched the weapon out of the aircraft.

The diplomat kicked and punched at the soldier. What blows he landed were weak and ineffective, nothing more than a moment's delay in the soldier's task. Rogan worked around the strikes and removed Gorshen's safety harness. Gorshen swung the briefcase. It caught the pilot beneath his jaw, sending him reeling. He lunged at the soldier, trying to shove Rogan out the door first. Again, the soldier was too strong. Rogan got his arms around the Ambassador's throat in a chokehold and began tugging him violently towards the open door.

Gorshen saw the mountain slope and the treetops very far below the helicopter. He dug in his heels, grasped wildly for any handhold, and tried to survive for a few more seconds while knowing that a rescue was never coming. Then, Rogan finally shoved him through the open hatch…

…and the air became a solid, shimmering wall, a barrier which Gorshen bounced off. He fell back into the craft, landing on his back almost atop the equally surprised pilot. They both heard Doom curse over the headset. Doom snapped orders at the pilot. Gorshen paid their exchange no mind. He was too preoccupied with trying to fathom the miracle that had just saved his life. He crawled to the open hatch and peered out.

An aircraft---clearly not Latverian Armed Forces---was flanking the helicopter.

Before Gorshen could wonder who was on board or what they had to do with the phenomenon, the helicopter pitched violently, its engines screaming. The Ambassador was again thrown to the floor as the craft went into a rapid descent…diving right for the mountain slope.

The invisible force that had prevented Gorshen's fatal fall now solidified around him. It materialized beneath his feet. It wrenched the pilot away from the controls and tossed him to his knees beside Gorshen. It filled the compartment and wrapped around both men like a bubble. Then it swiftly lifted them out the door and into the sky.

Gorshen screamed as the translucent force held him and Rogan aloft, in defiance of gravity, with a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the countryside. Nearby, the helicopter plunged into the hillside and exploded. Gorshen still shrieked in terror and helplessness as the airplane also descended towards the hillside and the 'bubble' carrying the struggling Rogan and the Ambassador followed the plane down. The plane made a vertical landing in an open clearing, its engines melting the snow.

After the Warbird touched down, Sue kept her place in the co-pilot's seat, concentrating on maintaining the shield around the Ambassador and his pilot. Reed moved to climb out the cargo doors. Once outside, he stretched himself like a net and caught the duo when Sue released her shield.

Once free, Rogan immediately drew his own pistol from his belt and aimed it at Gorshen's head. Reed snatched the weapon away, his suspicions that the pilot was another of Doom's assassins thus confirmed.

Sue saw the fight from the cockpit and scooped up Rogan with her shield. She knew just what to do with him. As she used her powers to lug the pilot into the waiting titanium box in the cargo bay, blips on the radar caught her eye. She shouted to Reed: "There are about a half-dozen military aircraft on the way here!"

The Ambassador had finally stopped yelling, but his wide eyes regarded the Americans in the strange blue uniforms with fear and suspicion (the 'Fantastic Four', wasn't that what they called themselves?). Reed hoped the man spoke English. There were a lot of things he and the Ambassador needed to resolve in the very brief time before half of Latveria's armed forces showed up.

Gorshen was not a fool. He didn't think the Americans had saved his life only to murder him now…but the rumors about the man of flame and the invisible girl gave him cause to wonder what other intentions they might have. He very much wanted to flee, to escape before anyone had time to mention his past to the soldiers about to join them, but the Americans would no doubt prevent him.

"Do you speak English?" the American man with the dark hair and graying temples asked.

"I do," Gorshen acknowledged. Talking was good. If he could talk, he could usually bargain his way out of any bad situation.

Reed grabbed him by the collar and gave him a shove in the direction of the downed helicopter. "Then we need to do some negotiating, 'Ambassador'."


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story._

**13**

Doctor Doom must surely have detected the arrival of the Human Torch and the Thing, but only a skeletal crew and a dozen guards were in the shell of the power plant. Johnny let Ben drop down in the middle of a small cluster of guards. Having heard or witnessed what the Thing had done to their cohorts during the Fantastic Four's last visit to the palace, half of the guards ran away immediately. The other half drew their weapons but hesitated to fire or twitch or do anything else that might provoke the stone behemoth.

The Human Torch landed behind Doom's minions. He recognized a few of Mufale's former soldiers among Doom's new legion. The guerrillas had the glassy-eyed stares of men controlled by Sater's 'autopilot' hypnosis. The guards who were in their right minds weren't any more keen on starting a fight with Doom's former protégé/prisoner than with the Thing. Some were secretly hoping Johnny Storm wasn't blaming _them_ for their employer's mistreatment.

Johnny winced, rubbing his aching arms and back. He frowned at Ben. "Ow, thanks for the hernia!"

"Aw, gee, sorry Tinkerbell, want me ta carry you next time?" Ben smirked.

The Human Torch mumbled an answer about what Ben could do with that offer before he turned to face Doom's perplexed lackeys. "Hey Misha, Haltov, Chuck! Who won Employee Karaoke Night?" he greeted them.

In answer, the guards exchanged baffled looks and then opened fire. Johnny was already moving. He flew out of the path of the shots, then drove the guards back with a barrage of weak fireballs---driving them right into Thing's waiting hands. Ben made pretzels out of the rifles.

"They don't speak English," Johnny explained to Ben.

"I wasn't feelin' chatty anyway." Ben knocked a few heads together, pitched a few screaming guards aside, and those who were left standing reconsidered the fight (and their career options) and took off running down the access tunnel. "Well, hell," Ben sulked.

Johnny doused his flames. "Don't be too hard on them. Not everyone can get psyched up about having his ass kicked by a giant stone guy for Latverian minimum wage…" The Human Torch broke off mid-sentence. He had suddenly felt the same weird feeling he'd had when Doom first showed him the meteorites. That weird feeling was much stronger this time. It was so strong that Johnny could follow it to its source and did so. "…wait, something's not right."

"Specifically?" Ben asked as he followed Johnny, who was moving down the corridors like a bloodhound who'd caught the scent of an escaped convict. He, too, could feel something odd in the air, something like the creepy feeling those space rocks gave him. Was that it? Had the kid picked up the trail of the thermal cells?

The Human Torch stopped at a door that read 'Generator Room'. He remembered this place. Standing in front of that door, remembering how gullible he'd been stealing those rocks, listening to Doom's twisted rants, giving his powers to that psycho, made Johnny feel like a prized chump.

The strange feeling was an energy signature with which Johnny was intimately familiar: His own biothermal energy. "This is the place," he said. The levels of biothermal heat Johnny was sensing behind that door alarmed him…as did Doom's conspicuous absence. If his toys were in that room, Doom should be here to protect them. "I'll go after the cells---or whatever is generating that heat. Keep Doom and the goon patrol off my back," Johnny told Ben.

Ben stepped between him and the door, shaking his head. "Not a good idea, Junior."

"Listen, there's only one way in and out of this room, and I _really_ don't want to get trapped inside," Johnny hurriedly explained. Besides the danger of Doom cornering them, the Human Torch was going to be very claustrophobic about small metal rooms for a long time. "Besides, with the heat I'm feeling from this room…well, rock is sturdy, but it does eventually melt. Wait here," he insisted.

As if on cue, more of Doom's security guards---and Mufale's brainwashed soldiers---put in an appearance. They weren't halfway down the access tunnel before they opened fire on Johnny and Ben. Bullets ricocheted off the titanium walls, a few narrowly missing Johnny.

Ben turned to meet the oncoming goombahs, all but rubbing his hands in anticipation. He clotheslined the first two or three with his outstretched arms, and then eagerly dove into the fray against the reinforcements. "Now that's more like it," he grinned.

"As long as you're happy, Big Guy." Johnny left the thug bashing to the Thing while he keyed open the door. Doom hadn't changed the access code in light of Johnny's rescue. _Guy's got a serious case of overconfidence here._ He probably figured the Human Torch wouldn't be coming back for a long while, thanks to Doom's fragging Sater's program. He should have known not to underestimate Reed Richards.

What Johnny saw when the door slid open was worse than he'd imagined. "Holy…"

There had to be one hundred of the meteor fragments. They lay in the metal case that Johnny had stolen from Selva-Uitti, obviously having been tucked away beneath a false bottom that Johnny had not noticed. He had been too busy trying to kill his own family on Doom's orders to inspect the case very closely.

The 'generator' panels had folded open like a flower. An infused stone—the one Doom had told Johnny couldn't hold its charge during that first test of the space rocks---was suspended on titanium pins at the center of the generator. A claw extended from the machine one-by-one and delicately removed stones from the metal case. The claw set the stones into a second set of pins beside the infused stone. The generator closed its panels around the two stones. Johnny felt the biothermal energy flare inside the containment box.

When the panels opened again, both stones glowed with the Human Torch's stolen power. A hatch on the wall slid open and a second claw extended a smaller titanium-hybrid box. The newly charged stone was dropped into the box, and the claw and box were retracted into the wall…into the adjoining control room. The first claw reached into the metal box and pulled out a fresh stone, placing it on the pins to be infused.

_One stone had enough power to infuse all these stones with Johnny's full supernova power? How was that possible?_ Then Johnny remembered: 'Self-regenerating', Doom had called them. The stone could let off a nova blast and then charge its own batteries…just like Johnny's DNA could continually regenerate his powers.

"I said that Richards and Grimm had no idea how powerful you really are, Johnny---see what your powers have wrought."

Johnny spun in the direction of the voice. Doom stood in the adjoining control room, clutching the infused stone in his metal hand. There was a half dozen individual boxes, a half dozen fully charged stones, sitting on the console in front of Doom. He beamed over his arsenal. "What do you think?" he asked Johnny, sounding gratingly like a bragging parent. Bragging about what? His thermal bomb space rock or his duplicity in coercing Johnny to create them?

"I think you are one twisted puppy, Vic," Johnny answered.

Outside the generator room, up to his elbows in Doom's patrol, Ben heard the door hiss. He saw that it was closing and its panel flashed the word '_Lock_'. He finished off this group of guards by picking one up and using him to bowl over the others, and just managed to shove his arm between the door and its frame before it could close all the way.

"All that talk about 'making life better for the poor farmers' and 'bringing murderers to justice' and 'saving the environment with a clean energy source' and what you really wanted was for me and the doc to make you new weapons to play with. Is that why the doc had to die? Just to give you a couple extra days to power up the rest of these space rocks?" Johnny crossed his arms, marveling now at how well Sater's brainwashing had worked. It was as if Johnny had been in a brain fog the last time he'd been here, in this palace of Doom's, in this room. The shroud had made him oblivious to his own naivety, make Doom's ludicrous ranting sound like logic, made freak boy seem heroic. It was like Johnny, Doom's Protégé, had been in the dark then and now the lights had been turned back on to reveal the monster that would be mentor.

"I told you I never let anyone live who can destroy my plans," Doom dismissed the mention of the late Doctor Sater. "So, Richards managed to decipher Sater's post-hypnotic coding, did he?" There was no real need for Doom to ask. If it wasn't obvious from the anger blazing in the boy's eyes, anger directly fully at his former captor, Grimm's presence and Johnny's camaraderie with his team mates would have told him that the Human Torch was free of the brainwashing. Doom was surprised by his own disappointment. "I don't suppose you'll be wanting me to restore your place in my new empire?"

Johnny blinked. "What? Are you kidding? Was that a joke?"

Doom chuckled. "I suppose that wouldn't be a good idea. I do enjoy our chats, Johnny, and that stubborn idealism you've inherited from your family is entertaining…but it would inevitably become a hindrance to my plans."

Ben's struggle to pry open the door had not escaped Doom's attention. Tired of trying to talk with Thing's pounding and the grinding of metal, Doom touched a switch and the door slid open to admit Grimm. "Ben, if you're so intent upon joining out conversation don't break the door. It would be bad on a global scale if containment of these cells were compromised."

Johnny looked away from Doom for just an instant when Ben entered the generator room. In that brief moment, Doom pressed a switch and the claw once again extended from the wall---this time picking up the metal case with the un-infused meteorites and pulling it into the control room where it was safely out of reach of the Human Torch and the Thing.

Ben stomped towards the window separating them from Doom. "How about if I compromise this?" He slammed his fist into the pane. It didn't so much as vibrate under his assault. Ben tried a second time, with no better luck.

"If you do that nonstop for about eight days, you might crack the pane," Doom gloated. "Now, as for your question, Johnny, I had to use Dr. Sater's program to ensure your cooperation because you never would have willingly helped me create the thermal cells otherwise. I needed her method of persuasion. But, I am a man of my word. You know that. I have every intention of using these thermal cells as prototypes for a new energy source. Latveria will still reap the benefits of being the world's only exporter of the scaled-down thermal batteries…and, naturally, as the world's only supplier, I'll enjoy the financial windfall of my invention. You would have profited beyond your wildest dreams if you'd stayed on my employee roster, Johnny."

There had been a time---before the accident, before the Human Torch and the Fantastic Four---when such an offer, particularly from Victor Von Doom, would have been too good to for Johnny to pass up. There had been a time when he really _did_ admire Von Doom, the businessman who dwarfed even Donald Trump with his success. He could even remember wanting to be more like Victor, admiring his fame, his money, his accomplishments, his list of celebrity friends (and girlfriends), and most of all his ability to do whatever he wanted whenever he felt like it with no one questioning him or second guessing him, without his fate being decided behind closed doors.

Funny how things worked out. Johnny _had_ found fame, and the money coming in from merchandising and from Reed's invention wasn't too shabby at all, but his priorities had changed somewhere along the line in the last six months. Doom saw power as control, as a weapon, as strength, as something all-consuming. He could never have enough. Johnny had almost been sucked into that way of thinking, too, but he'd learned to see it differently. Power was a tool, a dangerous tool. It was a responsibility (and Johnny was the last person who would have expected himself to adopt that attitude). For all he could accomplish with it on his own, Johnny could do more with it, do more good with it, as part of something bigger. It was being a part of that something bigger, a part of a whole, a part of a family, _that_ was his strength.

So, Doom was right---not for a billion dollars would Johnny have gone along with his thermal cell idea. Never would he have taken the chance of it being used the way Doom had used it, the way Doom intended to keep using it.

Johnny was glad that Doom's once-persuasive arguments now sounded to him like what they were: The ramblings of a nutcase. He had wondered if, when he faced Von Doom again, an overlooked booby trap from Dr. Sater's programming would suck him back into Doom's mind games. The fact that Johnny was seeing a wolf instead of a sheep was proof to himself that he could finally believe he was free of Doom's control. If Doom ever started to make sense again, Johnny would have to remind himself to do a reality check or get his head examined.

"Is that how you justify everything? And tell me, Vic, what's the windfall from selling the thermal cells as weapons?" Johnny wanted to know.

Beneath his mask, Doom smiled again with almost paternal pride at his ex-protégé's insight. "Lucrative. Don't be so stiff-necked, Johnny, the weapons' grade cells still won't attain nova temperatures. I want to improve the world, not incinerate it. Even I shudder at the idea of that kind of raw power in irresponsible hands."

"Irresponsible says Mr. Pot…"

"I don't indiscriminately blow up innocent people," Doom snapped. "If you're having some kind of superhero's remorse about the bomb that I used on Mufale's men, let me put it to rest: They were murderers. I didn't lie to you about that. If you knew half of the horrors they'd inflicted on Latveria, you wouldn't waste another minute lamenting them. I know I won't. I'm sure, despite your protests, that you understand, Johnny. We're too alike for you not to. I'm sure if you found the person responsible for tearing apart your family and framing your father, you wouldn't let them wander free and live happily ever after just to satisfy some archaic, idealistic notions of right and wrong. Would you?"

The truth was, Johnny didn't know what he'd do in that situation…but that didn't make Doom right about them being anything alike. "I'm not a killer, Doom," he repeated, a twitch of his hand the only indication of how the question had hit a nerve.

"You haven't been in this game long enough to get your hands bloody, but you can be sure that day will come," Doom predicted. "For you and for the rest of your family. With the right provocation, we're all capable of murder. Don't imagine because you call yourself a hero and follow some code distinguishing good from evil that you're the exception to human nature…and revenge is the strongest provocation of them all. I'll bet you thought about revenge when you found out what Dr. Sater and I did to you with her program. I'll bet you thought about killing me when you found out what I did to Dr. Sater…I'm sure Richards thought about it too. If you'd only listened to what I had to teach you, I could have helped you prepare for that eventuality."

Ben cut Doom off. The kid didn't need him screwing with his mind any more and there was enough hot air in that room without Doom adding his b.s. "Ya wanna 'improve the world', Tin Man? Start by pullin' that metal bottom lip of yours over yer face and swallowin'."

Doom barely spared Ben a glance in response. He continued to direct his tirade at the Human Torch. "What now, Johnny? Are you going to try to take the cells with you---and the only hope those villagers and farmers have of escaping their poverty? Steal the hope of people who idolize you, _hero_?"

"If my only choice is between that and leaving you a bomb made out of my powers…yes." There were other ways to help the folks, the friends, Johnny had made during his awful time under Doom's thumb. There were other ways to get them a power plant if that's what they wanted. Reed had promised Nora Sater he'd find a way. That had been what she'd asked in return for saving Johnny's soul, and Johnny would make sure it was delivered.

"You know I can't let you do that."

With the press of a button, Doom sealed Ben and Johnny inside the control room. The door panel flashed "_Lock"_ as their escape route closed. The generator panels folded open to reveal two infused thermal batteries…the first cell was still transferring thermal power to the second. The claw from the control room deposited a third meteorite onto pins. The first battery began to infuse the third…and then the second thermal cell flared and added its energy to the third cell as well. The temperature of the room was already doubling every few seconds as the cells charged each other.

"Oh perfect," Johnny groaned. Ben saw what was happening as well: When all three cells could hold no more biothermal energy, they were going to nova…one after the other or all at once. The Human Torch had doubts about his own ability to survive three consecutive, amplified supernovas, much less simultaneous ones. Ben wouldn't have a chance. But that wasn't Johnny deepest concerns. He wasn't entirely certain this titanium-hybrid dome was going to contain that much energy. He didn't even know if Sue's power could help contain the blast if she were there.

Ben was thinking the same thing. "How much heat can those rocks generate?"

"Let's just say if this dome doesn't hold it, all of Latveria's gonna feel the blast---right before the atmosphere burns up and we all die," Johnny said grimly.

Thanks to the winter snow pack, the wreckage of the helicopter ignited very few fires, most of it confined to the heaps of twisted metal and bushes closest to the crash site. Sue was able to smother some of the flames with her shields while Reed stretched his hand into a shovel and heaped snow onto the rest. Mr. Fantastic directed the unhappy Ambassador to the smoldering wreckage. The distant sounds of approaching the approach Air Force planes was like the ticking of a clock for both Reed and Gorshen. It ticked away the little time they had to negotiate, Reed for his family and Gorshen for his life.

Richards knew full well that the man he'd just saved was probably guilty of every crime for which Doom blamed him. The knowledge made it harder for Reed to do what he knew he had to do. For his part, Gorshen was sweating bullets in the frigid winter air, and his fear appeared to be directed more at the approaching army than at his rescuers, Reed noticed. He kept one hand firmly on Gorshen's elbow until they found the crash site, lest in his quest for self-preservation the man decide to run blindly into the forest.

Gorshen's voice quavered when he tried to assert some authority over the situation. "You have the gratitude of the people of Latveria for saving my life."

Mr. Fantastic let go of the diplomat and nodded to Sue. She watched Gorshen like a hawk, ready to net him with her shields if he ran. Leaving Gorshen to her, Reed began searching the mangled remains of the helicopter. "I was under the impression that Latveria wanted to put me and my family in prison," Reed countered. "And, don't think that I've saved your life, Ambassador. All I've done is buy you a stay of execution. Doom won't let you go so easily. If you knew why he attacked those soldiers in Chendryn, why he set off that bomb, then you know why he wants you dead."

Reed paused in his search to glance sidelong at Gorshen. As he'd expected, the man was quite pale. "My advice would be to find a deep, dark hole in a country far away from here and hide in it. Maybe you'll live a month or two before Doom finds you."

Sue interjected: "We'd really love to tell the Latverian government who you really are, but we need you to play the loyal and honorable Ambassador for just a little longer."

Reed spied the object that he'd hoped to find among the wreckage. It was lodged beneath the crushed pilot's seat. He pried the box free of the tangled metal and gave it a closer inspection. It was definitely one of the control boxes with Sater's post-hypnotic command program. The titanium shell had survived the crash and fires like a black box from an airplane. He tossed the device to Sue. The Invisible Woman had tucked a small tube that resembled a flashlight up her sleeve. It was a variation of a portable electromagnetic device, with a few additional goodies that Reed had added. At its maximum setting, the 'electromagnet plus' would wipe out every computer system and take down every power plant and aircraft in a city the size of Denver. At its lowest, it would still easily penetrate the titanium shell of Doom's control box and wipe out the program stored on the computer chip inside.

"You know, Mr. Gorshen, or whoever you are, over the past week, I've had to make deals with almost every devil between New York City and Chendryn---Doctor Doom, Nora Sater. I'm not happy about any of it, so one more deal won't make any difference." Reed jumped down from the pile of metal to the snow covered ground. He trudged back to where Sue and the Ambassador waited. Doom's taunts were still in Reed's ears: _But then, a good father is willing to make sacrifices to save a son, don't you agree?_

Doom was right for once.

"What is it that you want?" Gorshen asked. There was little time left to negotiate with the Americans with the military closing in fast. Gorshen might be able to buy himself a little more time, keep his past a secret a few more hours, by handing over these two Americans to the security forces and implicating them as Doom's co-conspirators, but it would take only a word from these 'superheroes' about his connection to the militia at the Arvizu manor and Gorshen would be sharing a prison cell with them. He knew that these two would not withhold the truth from the Latverian government forever; all that Gorshen could bargain for was the price for and duration of their silence.

Sue shoved the control box, harmless now that Sater's program was erased from its memory, into the Ambassador's hands. "This box is how Doom got to your pilot. It used to contain a program created by Dr. Sa---Doctor _Doom_." However Sue felt about the woman, there was nothing to gain by having her reputation destroyed with the news of what she'd created, what she'd done to Johnny. Doom could take the fall for that on his own. "It uses light and sound to induce a hypnotic state, putting it in simplified terms, and then it feeds a series of post-hypnotic commands into the subject's subconscious. Hopefully by the time we let your pilot out of that cell we put him in, Reed's counter-program will have freed him from Doom's control. He can be a witness for my brother…and so can you. Considering he just tried to kill you, I doubt your pilot's word alone is going to be enough to convince the people who want to put Johnny in jail for attacking that mansion."

Reed added: "Johnny was abducted by Doom and subjected to that p.h.c. program. He was forced to help Doom attack the remaining guerrillas of the late General Kubeka's militia. I think you already know they were the ones occupying that mansion when it was attacked, not the innocent farmers that your government believes lived there." He stared down Gorshen when the Ambassador opened his mouth to deny the accusation. "Sue was there to stop the attack. If she hadn't been, every man, woman, and child for miles would have been killed. I've told your friend Penscik all this, but I don't think he's going to be convinced unless he hears it from two eyewitnesses like you and your unfortunate pilot."

Just as he had while talking to Penscik, Reed omitted bits of information that Gorshen didn't need to know---like the thermal cells that had started all this trouble. If he mentioned it, the Ambassador might get the bright idea to make the surrender of the thermal cells part of the agreement for clearing Johnny and Sue's name.

Gorshen mulled the request quickly. "And what? I clear your names while my pilot condemns me?" he scoffed.

"Doom spoke to your pilot on a closed circuit, just like he did when he brainwashed Johnny. No one else heard what he said to either of you and your pilot didn't speak or repeat Doom's accusations over your radio. You're very lucky. Temporary memory loss is one of the effects of the mind control program. Your pilot won't remember anything he heard until the de-programming is complete. I can delay it a little bit, but I won't erase his memory. Maybe you can be safely vanished down your rabbit hole before he remembers what Doom said to him about your past," Reed answered.

It was as good as Gorshen could hope for, given the circumstances. He opened his mouth to agree, but Reed wasn't done yet: "Just a couple other things before you pull your disappearing act. In addition to clearing Johnny and Sue's names, you'll make an announcement about their innocence and their part in saving your life to the international press and the United States government. I'm sick of reporters camping on our doorsteps. Also, you'll arrange to have the body of Dr. Eleanora Sater flown from New York City and returned to whatever family she has in Latveria. She was murdered by Doom while helping us counter that program…you owe her your life, indirectly."

"Is that all?" Gorshen wanted to know. The Ambassador had never heard of the woman, but those arrangements would be easy to handle.

The military aircraft were almost upon them. Over their speakers, the pilots shouted in Latverian what sounded like warnings directed at Reed and Sue.

"I have some thoughts on a power plant desperately needed in Chendryn, but I'm sure your successor can deal with that after your 'retirement'," Reed smile icily. "Do we have a deal?"

"You will protect me from Doom," the Ambassador demanded.

"No. We will lead your armed forces to where Doom's been hiding and keep him off your back for a few days. You're on your own after that. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life baby-sitting you, Ambassador, I'm not that fond of you," Reed countered. "Agreed?"

_What choice did he have?_ Gorshen frowned, a man watching his life unraveling. "Agreed."


	14. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. Here's the finale, folks. I really hope you enjoyed the ride._

**14**

There was no point in trying to get out of the generator room, Johnny knew. Even if he and Ben got free, it would breach what meager containment of the impending blast that the dome could provide. There wouldn't be any place on Earth to hide from the destruction of the atmosphere anyway. _What the hell was Doom thinking? Was he so wrapped up with killing Johnny and Ben for spite that he'd burn up the planet for spite or was he just that stupid that he didn't have a clue about the chain reaction he was setting off?_

There was no way Johnny could absorb all the power out of one self-regenerating thermal cell, let alone three. They'd almost sucked the life right out of him when he'd infused them with his bio-thermal power. He'd burn himself up trying…and the minute he touched the stones, they'd try to drain him again. That would only hurry along the explosion and increase its magnitude. He had Ben separate the stones and covering them with pieces of titanium that Ben ripped from the generator, hoping to stop the rocks from further infusing each other.

The heat being thrown off by the trio of space rocks was getting to be a little much even for a man made of stone. Ben tried his communicator. "Reed? Sue? Can ya hear me?" It was no good. Doom's funhouse was still interfering with the incoming and outgoing signals.

The Human Torch tried absorbing as much heat as he could from the room; he couldn't forestall the explosion, but he could try keep both of them alive long enough to think of a plan. The effort of taking that much bio-thermal power into his body was becoming painful. Johnny looked at Ben. "If you've got any suggestions, let's hear 'em now."

Only one thing sprang to the Thing's mind, only one way he could think of to stop the stones from regenerating and amplifying their energy. He retrieved the stones, which was cold to the touch despite the heat they were putting out, holding one in each of his massive palm and placing one beneath his foot. Reed had said that breaking the space rocks might release their bio-thermal heat in one giant burst. It might kill Ben and Johnny. Still, it was better that the two of them got vaporized (at least it would be a quick and painless death) instead of the whole planet getting burned up. It had to be done soon if he was going to do it.

Ben gave the Human Torch a questioning glance. Johnny saw what the Thing intended and quickly nodded in unspoken agreement.

_This is either gonna stop the rocks from going ka-boom, or we're gonna be doin' some explain' to the man upstairs soon,_ Ben thought. He closed his eyes and put all his muscle into crushing the three stones, waiting for the thermal cells to release all their heat and energy in one massive burst.

Nothing happened.

Ben opened one eye, and one fist. The meteorite in his open palm had been ground into fine powder by his hand. The glow in the remaining grains slowly faded and died. The same was true of the thermal cell in his other hand and the one ground to dust under his foot. "Thank you!" he breathed, brushing rock dust off his palms. "See? Sometimes smashin' stuff _is_ the right answer."

The Human Torch sagged to his knees, leaning on the railing of the catwalk for support, unable to do much besides nod in response. His muscles spasmed in protest of the excess heat coursing through his body. Ben moved to the younger man's side and hoisted Johnny to his feet. He could feel the heat pouring from the kid. "All right there, Matchstick?"

Johnny needed to vent some of the extra heat he'd absorbed…and he already had a target picked out. He looked at the two-way mirror, not really surprised to find that Doom had vanished while the two of them were busy with the space rocks. He'd taken the metal cases of infused and un-infused meteorites with him.

Ben ripped the door's control panel right out of the wall. Johnny incinerated the wires underneath the panel. The door popped open a few inches and Thing wrestled it the rest of the way until they could stumble from the generator room into the corridor.

The guards were waiting with their guns and taser weapons drawn. They weren't the targets Johnny wanted, but they'd do. He focused some of that excess heat in his body onto the weapons trained on him and Ben. The guns swiftly heated up, so quickly that the guards never had the chance to squeeze off shots before they were forced to pitch away the red-hot weapons.

Ben had no trouble chasing off any of the hired goons who weren't cowed by the Human Torch's demonstration. The guards were probably only there to give Doom time to escape with that case full of space rocks, Ben figured. There was no sign of the metal man by the time the short fight was over.

_No way. No way was Doom getting away. Not after all this. Not after all he'd done,_ Johnny resolved again. He knew where his former 'mentor' was heading. He summoned his flames and flew towards the access tunnel that led back to Doom's palace in pursuit.

"Johnny!" Ben shouted uselessly after him. "Wait!"

Doom had changed the security system, however, just in case his former protégé made another visit to the dome. As soon as Johnny reached the mouth of the tunnel, his heat signature triggered taser cannons mounted on the walls. Their bolts formed an electrical barrier so quickly that Johnny couldn't avoid hitting it.

The bolts caught Johnny off guard. The electricity disrupted his powers and sent white-hot pain, almost as bad as Doom's own unrestrained energy, through his body. He hit the floor hard, working hard not to pass out under the twin agonies of the electric shock and the excess heat that still wracked him.

Ben dodged the shots from the cannons---then he tore them from the wall.

"What word didn't ya understand, kid? 'Johnny' or 'wait'?" the Thing scolded. He caught Johnny beneath the arms and once again lifted him to his feet. "Ya better start usin' yer head or you're gonna get hurt."

Johnny's impulse was still to get to Doom fast. The psycho would head for the roof and the hanger where he kept his prototype aircrafts. Some of the crafts Doom had up there could give the Warbird a race for its money. Even the Human Torch might have trouble catching them, fast though he was. He sure didn't want to find out…especially not while his muscles were still seizing up from the heat and the electrical blasts. _Got to vent this heat somehow…_

"He's heading for the roof," Johnny warned Ben.

"Perfect. Let's see if he can fly in an electromagnetic storm," Ben smirked. He pulled the small tube from his belt. Reed's homemade electro-magnet gizmo, if it worked as Mr. Fantastic expected, would not only ruin every control box and computer with Sater's program that Doom had squirreled away in this building, but would wreck havoc on whatever shiny planes Doom had up on the rooftop.

The tube did all that and more. A press of the trigger and the pulse wiped out the fortress' computer and security systems. The lights on the taser cannons blinked out. For that matter, the entire palace went dark as the computer-controlled power generators groaned and shut down. The computers would not come back on line, thanks to the little extras that Reed had incorporated into the tube: A nice little computer virus transmitted into the palace's systems via its satellites that would be downloaded into its mainframe when the gas-powered backup generators tried to restart the computers.

Johnny's arm burst into flames, providing light for them to find their way in the darkness. They would have to search the hideaway and make sure that Sater's program had been erased, but that problem would have to wait until Reed and Sue caught up with them, until they had Doom under lock and key. The important thing now was to get to the maniac and get those thermal cells away from him.

The aircraft was a prototype. On the ground, it resembled a helicopter with wings, but it had been equipped with retractable rotors, engines almost as fast as a rocket and a hull built to withstand the heat and pressure of the speed so that it flew like a military fighter jet once it was in the sky. His engineers had told Doom that such a machine was impossible to build, let alone fly. Doom hated the word 'impossible'. Selva-Uitti had appropriated the craft in their hostile takeover of Von Doom Industries, but Doom had reclaimed (stolen) it. The craft would get Doom far enough from the hideaway by the time Johnny and Ben escaped that generator room that not even the Human Torch would be able to catch up with him (assuming they escaped the generator room, and the superheroes were quite pesky with their ability to survive what should have been certain death, so Doom couldn't discount that possibility). As long as he had his infused cells, sacrificing a few of the space rocks in order to escape didn't concern Doom.

Doom settled into the pilot's chair, passing the case with the precious thermal cells to Leonard, who sat on the co-pilot's seat. Doom's assistant had already powered up the aircraft for takeoff.

The ship was only a few feet into the air when some sort of pulse struck the aircraft. The controls went dead and the engines ground to a halt. The lights of the roof (and the rest of the palace) flickered out. The aircraft fell like a stone back down to the landing pad, not falling so far that the vehicle was damaged. It would not power up again.

"What the---?" Doom mumbled. This could not have been caused by the explosion in the generator room. A pulse strong enough to penetrate this craft's hull and scramble its systems could only be caused by a device of Reed Richards' design. He cursed the scientist and his interfering pest family.

Infuriated, Doom ripped off the cockpit door when he climbed out of the craft. He whirled to face the familiar noise of flame and rushing air as the Human Torch sailed up through the hole Ben had made in the roof two days earlier.

"I was prepared to let you go as a reward for being such a useful protégé," Doom snarled at the boy. "But, if you're determined to die, I'll be happy to accommodate you."

Doom shot a volley of energy towards the human fireball, and Johnny banked hard to veer out of the path of the blast. Doom could see that the younger man was struggling a bit---too much heat from the thermal cells or too much electricity from the taser cannons, no doubt. He smiled to himself. He could finish off the bothersome Human Torch if he did so quickly, before Grimm joined the fight.

Meanwhile, Johnny finally found a target upon which to unleash the pent up heat in his body: Doom's toy copter. He flew around to the passenger side, putting the craft between himself and Victor, and hovered there. He saw Doom's trusted aide seated in the co-pilot's seat. "You might want to move, Lenny," Johnny suggested, "and don't even think about taking those thermal cells with you."

Leonard took his advice, abandoning the metal case in his haste to abandon the aircraft. He ran for the stairs leading back into the palace, leaving the irate superheroes to his employer's discretion…and collided with the Thing.

Leonard only squeaked out a startled, "Oh", before Ben raised his thumb and forefinger and knocked the brown-nose assistant cold by flicking the man right in his nose.

Johnny mustered the heat that was tearing through him, gathered it and focused it in one tremendous burst that he directed at Doom's aircraft. The fencing that lined the roof melted and its wires snapped. The titanium beneath the stonework glowed red hot. The helicopter-like skids of the prototype craft buckled. It had been built to withstand heat, but not heat nearing the Human Torch's supernova levels. Within seconds, the skids buckled and the craft sagged and tipped onto its side.

"Not a bad trick, Johnny. You did learn something from my tutelage." Impervious to the heat that the Human Torch discharged, Doom circled around his melting escape vehicle. "Just not enough."

Doom pitched the door he'd ripped from the craft at his foe just as Ben Grimm climbed onto the roof. "Johnny, watch out!" the Thing shouted a warning.

Johnny didn't see the projectile in time, and the door slammed, broadside up, into the Human Torch, knocking him out of the sky. He plunged towards the frozen lake at the bottom of the cliff. Ben was too far away from the side of the building to see where Johnny had fallen.

The computers that had interfered with transmissions had been knocked out by the electromagnetic pulse. Ben thumbed the communicator. "Reed, Susie, any time ya wanna lend us a hand here, that'd be great," he sent out a message.

"We're already on our way, Ben," Reed answered. Ben checked the sky, but saw only stars. There was no sign of an approaching airplane. They could be a few miles away or hundreds of miles. He hoped the Warbird was as fast as he'd boasted that it was.

Doom turned, with a self-satisfied smile, to face his former protégé's now-furious surrogate big brother. Thing balled his hands into fist. He saw the listing aircraft and smirked back at the metal villain. "Aww, now that's gonna make it a bitch for you ta take off, Tin Man." Ben's tone dripped sarcastic sympathy. "Ya wanna fly? Here, let me give ya a hand."

Doom fired another torrent of electricity at the Thing. Ben dodged easily by vaulting over the metal man's head and landed beside the damaged airship. He grabbed the 'jetcopter' by its tail section and swung it like a baseball bat. It slammed into Doom and knocked him the length of the roof. He sailed into the open hangar door and through its back wall. The broken wires of the security fencing save him from going over the edge of the roof. The damaged wires ensnared him.

The Thing hurled the damaged aircraft at Doom. The copter smashed into a jet plane inside the hangar. The crash sliced both vehicles in half, but the prototype jet copter took the brunt of the impact. It's tail section and main rotor became projectiles, sailing off the roof and careening down to the frozen lake. The rotor was lodged, half-buried, in the thick ice. The tail section came to a halt when it crashed into the thick trees.

Ben ran to the spot where Johnny had gone over the side of the building, trying to catch sight of the Human Torch. He was nearly plowed down by a whirlwind of fire as Johnny rocketed up the side of the palace and sailed right past the Thing.

Still ensnared by the security fencing, Doom saw the streak of fire and fury shoot across the roof---on a collision course with the metal man. Johnny hit Doom with every fiber of heat and strength he possessed. The flames severed the wires, and the Human Torch lifted Doctor Doom off his feet, off the roof, and lifted him into the sky.

If Johnny let go, there was no danger that the fall would injure Doom, so Victor did not hesitate to grab his captor's shoulder and unleash more electricity, trying to disrupt the Human Torch's powers and gain his own freedom. Johnny wavered under the onslaught, but put his concentration into maintaining his flames and kept going. He turned his flames as hot as they could go without going supernova, flooding the titanium man with heat until Doom's metal skin glowed like a hotplate.

Dragging Doom, Johnny made a large circle around the frozen lake. He glimpsed a light moving in the night sky in the distance. _The Warbird? The Latverian cavalry? More of Doom's brainwashed guerrillas or lackeys?_ He wondered. It didn't matter. Johnny lined up for a run at the icy water.

"You murdered the doc," Johnny growled at Doom over the roar of air and fire. _No way are you getting away with all this, no way._

"Know when to let it go, Johnny. I've told you repeatedly emotions will get you killed," Doom answered. He fired a stronger shot, and this time Johnny couldn't maintain his powers as the pain lanced him. His flames flickered and he felt himself begin to lose altitude. It didn't matter…Johnny only had to stay airborne for a few more seconds. He had to end this fight, had to immobilize Doom, and he knew just how he was going to do it.

"Thanks for the advice," he grunted as they closed on the lake…and the copter pieces that protruded from the thick ice.

Johnny gave up trying to maintain his flames, letting momentum carry them down to the lake. He poured whatever heat he could still summon into Doom's metal skin and released the man, trying to pitch him towards the flat side of the copter's rotor blades. The Human Torch flamed out and covered his face as he landed on the icy sheet. He managed to twist himself to avoid the jagged shards of the aircraft sticking out of the ice. Johnny slid to a stop face down a few dozen feet from the wreckage. The ice began to steam beneath his overheated body.

Meanwhile, Doom's glowing-hot skin impacted with the weakened metal rotor blades. Instantly, the heat from Doom was conducted to the blades, which began to curl and fuse themselves to his arm and back. Under the superheated metal man and the rapidly heating blades, the ice around them steamed and cracked.

Ben saw all this. He cursed and raced to retrieve the metal case with the thermal cells. Then, meteorites in hand, he leaped from the rooftop, falling hundreds of feet and landing in the snow gently as if he'd just stepped off a porch. It was too difficult to run in the waist deep snow, so he closed the distance between himself and the lake by tremendous leaps instead of strides. He was surprised to find people from the nearby village making their way along the road. The villagers had been drawn by the sight of the Human Torch sweeping across the night sky. _Great, just what we need: Lookie Lous._

Johnny heard the ice hiss and then a loud _crack_. Ice. Cracking. _Not good_. If he was a normal person, he knew it would be safer to lie flat than risk breaking the ice. But he was not normal. His body temperature was going to melt the ice like butter, quickly, and lying flat would just melt a larger section. He pushed himself up, and his hands began to sink into the ice—as did his knees where he now kneeled---as it rapidly melted under his overheated body. Fissures snaked across the ice from where he stood to the spot where Doom was fused to the rotor blades.

Doom was watching Johnny with a gaze of approval. "Fitting, Johnny, very fitting: A man made of titanium and a man made of fire on a sheet of ice. The ice breaks and both die…and the only rescuer for miles is a human boulder." If he were worried about his predicament, he did not show it…even though the rotor was sinking into the melting ice, threatening to drag Doom down to the icy depths of the lake. "So, you're finally prepared to murder me, Johnny. The student surpasses the teacher. Tell me, are you going to wait around to die with me?"

There was a deafening _crack_ and the ice under Johnny's feet finally broke. He flamed in time to save himself from plunging into the watery abyss.

As he watched, the gap widened and merged with the cracks that had formed around Doom and the pieces of aircraft. In the blink of an eye, the rotor blades---which still anchored Doom---vanished into the dark water, dragging the man down with them into the icy depths. Johnny hovered over the swirling water into which Doom had sunk.

"_You murdered the doc."_

_"All you wanted was for me to make you a new weapon to play with."_

Doom deserved his fate. Johnny knew it. Deserved it many times over. Deserved it for every life he'd snuffed, for the way he'd used Johnny, for the atrocious weapons he'd forced Johnny and Nora to create, for the horrors he'd planned to let loose on the world, for the pain he'd caused Johnny's family. As long as the man who had been Victor Von Doom lived, his madness would threaten every person on the planet. Johnny's family would never be safe from his pathological hatred and thirst for revenge…

…The family that had saved Johnny from a life controlled by that same hatred, which Doom had tried to instill into the unwilling Human Torch.

"_My job is to try to save any lives that I can…"_

"_I'm not a murderer."_

"…_not just the people I think deserve my help."_

"_I can't be like Doom."_

Johnny heard the whine of an approaching plane and looked up to see its lights. He thought it sounded like the Warbird, but in the dark of night, he couldn't see it clearly enough to know. Ben dashed from the forest, trudging along the snow-covered lakeshore. People from the nearby town weren't far behind him. Johnny recognized Rafi and Old Man Gustaev among them. Ben was too far away to help even if he could have walked onto the fragile ice with his heavy stone body.

The Human Torch glanced from the churning water, to Ben, and his stare lingered a bit on the approaching plane.

_Reed, Susie, I _really_ hope that's you,_ he said a silent prayer.

Then he let his flames burn out.

Johnny heard Ben shout as he fell, then the swirling, ice-cold waters closed over his head.

Aboard the Warbird, Sue saw her brother fall---quite deliberately---into the half-frozen lake. "_No_!"

Reed set the autopilot, which brought the Warbird to a halt, hovering above the hole in the ice where Johnny had plunged into the lake. Sue was already moving into the cargo bay. She hurriedly opened the cargo bay doors and swung a winch into place there. She stared down at the black waters, wanting to reach out with her powers and put a shield around her submerged brother, but she couldn't even see where he was. All she knew was he'd only have minutes---if that long—to live in the freezing lake.

Footsteps pounded into the cabin and suddenly Reed was kneeling beside her. He got a good foothold, grabbed the chain on the winch, and leaned out the open doors. He stretched his body down to the frozen lake and took a deep breath before his head and torso went under the water. The cold crushed the breath from his lungs. It was so dark that he knew he'd only find Johnny by letting the water carry him where it had carried the boy and by groping blindly.

His outstretched arms found something---a flailing hand. At the contact, the hand (which was definitely flesh, not metal) grabbed tightly to Reed's arm. Still working blindly, Reed wrapped the chain around Johnny, who never let go of his arm. He kept one hand on Johnny's shoulder; with the other hand, Reed tugged on the chain to signal Sue. When the chain began to move, Reed coiled his arm around Johnny and began to contract his own body from its stretched position, helping lift both of them from the water, helping the winch do its job.

Johnny let go of him, and Reed feared the boy had lost consciousness---until they broke the surface of the lake. Johnny was pale from the frigid water, probably hypothermic, but he was conscious and breathing…and both his hands were holding fast to the rotor blade to which Doctor Doom was fused.

As Reed and the winch lifted Johnny and Doom, Reed felt the Warbird move. It glided forward until the trio hovered above Ben and the farmers on the shore. "It's all right, son, you can let go of Doom now," Reed called to Johnny, not sure if the younger man would understand him. "We're going to get you onto the Warbird."

At that, the younger man shook his head emphatically. He pointed to the ground. Reed wasn't going to waste time arguing with Johnny. They had to start getting him warm and fast. The villagers were already gathering wood, brushing a clear spot in the snow drifts, and building a fire. Reed looked up at Sue, and gestured for her to lower the chain.

When he felt himself descending, Johnny—with some effort---got his frozen fingers to let go of the blade. Ben caught the blades and Doom. None too gently, he set Doom on the bank and left him for the villagers to deal with. It didn't look like the man was going anywhere, welded to the blade like he was.

Next, Reed handed Johnny to Ben. After he'd let go of his charge, Reed dropped to the ground. Rafi and the villagers were already stripping off their own overcoats and began draping them over the Human Torch as Ben sat the boy beside the blazing fire. Others brought more wood for the fire.

There was a rush of air and Sue glided on a disc of psychic energy to land on the shore. Still on auto-pilot, the Warbird flew off in search of a place to land. Sue had brought more blankets, a pot, and a cup. Sue almost mummified her brother bundling him into the heavy blankets before finally hugging Johnny to satisfy herself that he was still alive and in one piece. Johnny couldn't protest the kids' glove treatment with his teeth chattering so badly. Cold had become an alien sensation to him.

Rafi took the pan and cup from the Invisible Woman and began to melt snow over the fire. Gustaev went to gather some winter shrubs that were good for helping with frostbite and hypothermia. A few of the villagers wandered to Doom, draping coats onto him. They were befuddled about how to separate him from the pieces of rotor.

Reed watched them, grateful that they had come, unbidden, to help, grateful that they were asking no questions about the mistreatment of Doom, who was still their friend and protector as far as any of the villagers knew. He nodded his gratitude to one of the men when the farmer met Mr. Fantastic's eye. Rafi returned the nod. Reed could see why Nora, and Johnny, cared so much for these people. He didn't know how he'd do it, but Mr. Fantastic was going to keep his promise to help these folks.

With Doom out of commission (for now), with Gorshen back in the embassy (for now) to reluctantly clear Johnny and Sue's names with the Latverian and American government, and the need to ensure that all the meteorites and all copies of Sater's program were removed from Doom's lair the Fantastic Four would be spending a little time in Latveria. After Johnny was back on his feet, he could help Reed explain their actions to the villagers and figure out the best way to help them.

Sue used her energy to create a bubble around the impromptu campsite, which shielded them from the cold wind and kept in some of the heat from the campfire. Reed kneeled in front of Johnny, giving him a quick exam. He didn't try to move Johnny yet. He didn't know what was so important that Johnny had adamantly wanted to be on the shore instead of the warmth of the plane, but, since they were already on the ground, Reed wanted the young man to sit and let the fire and the blankets and the hot water warm him up first. "That was a dumb stunt---are you all right, son?"

Johnny's mouth quirked into his familiar cocky grin. "Fine---was really hoping---that was you guys," he stammered around his chattering teeth.

"We need to get you back to the Warbird," Sue insisted.

The Human Torch's gaze shifted to Doom and his smile curled into a frown. The burning anger he'd felt for the villain had subsided, but there was still one last bit of business that needed to be taken care of. "Just got to do---one thing—first," he said.

Johnny stumbled to his feet. They didn't approve of him trying to walk, but Reed and Sue moved to stand on either side of the Human Torch and Ben was right behind him. His family walked along with him, ready to catch or support him if he needed them…and he did need them. He didn't give a damn if it was an Achilles Heel or not.

He trudged over to Doctor Doom and stared at the metal man thoughtfully for a minute. Finally, Johnny bent down until he was at Doom's eye level.

Johnny's cocky grin returned.

"In case I didn't say it before, _boss_: I quit."

**THE END**


End file.
